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Full text of "A week at Killarney : with descriptions of the routes thither from Dublin, Cork, &c."

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THE Authors of this Work have the satisfaction to issue A neav Edition, in 
which the reader will find notices of all recent changes and improvements 
in the district described ; and, generally, in the South of Ireland. 

In the autumn of 1864 they revisited " The Lakes," in order to be enabled to 
communicate to the Tourist information concerning all matters with which it is 
important he should be made acquainted ; studying to obtain such knowledge as 
might facilitate his progress while visiting districts assuredly more attractive — 
because more abundant in natural beauties — than any other portions of the British 

The leading purpose of the Authors is to induce visits to Ieeland. Those 
who require relaxation from labour, or may be advised^ to seek health under the 
influence of a mild climate, or search for sources of novel and rational amusement, 
or draw fi'om change of scene a stimulus to wholesome' > excitement, or covet 
acquaintance with the charms of Nature, or wish to study a people full of original 
character — cannot project an excursion to any part of Europe that will afford a 
more ample recompense. 

To the English, therefore, a country in which they cannot fail to be deeply 
interested, holds out every temptation the traveller can need. A cordial and hearty 
welcome will be given, at all times and in all places, to the " stranger, " who will 

* A railroad to Dunmanway (fifty-three miles from Cork cnrnitteXp Bantry and Glenpariff will be immediately ofened • 
and very soon a railway to Macroom itwenly-four miles from Cork) both towns being en route to Bantry and Glengariff. 
The realer will be [jleased to bear these facts in mind for his guidance when arranging his lour from Cork. 


there journey in security such, as he can meet in no other portion of the globe. 
Ireland will unquestionably supply every means of enjoyment that may be 
obtained in any Continental kingdom, and without calling for the sacrifices of money 
and comfort that will be exacted in Germany, Switzerland, Pi-ance, or Italy. 

The Authors are fully aware they have failed in giving to the reader more than 
a very limited idea of the grandeur and loveliness of The Kilxaeney Lakes, and 
the wild magTiificence of the sea-coasts so easily accessible from them. They trust, 
however, they have succeeded in presenting to the Tourist a Companio]!}^ that — 
accompanying him during the several routes — may supply needful information 
during his progress, and be a pleasant reminiscence of his Tour, when it is over, 
and he is seated at home, reviewing his journeyings to the beautiful districts 
through which he has been travelling. 

The Authors desire to lay continual stress on the advantages that must ensue 
from intercourse between the two countries — countries so naturally connected, and 
whose interests must be, while the world lasts, mutual and inseparable. 

The Tourist will, of a surety, return from his Tour, brief or prolonged, with 
increased esteem for the Irish people of all grades, with enlarged ideas of their 
capabilities, and an augmented desire to draw closer and closer the bond of union 
between England and Ireland, by enabling the latter to participate more and more 
in the prosperity which the former enjoys. 

Various unhappy circumstances have hitherto combined to postpone the on- 
progress of Ireland ; but they are all rapidly departing — some of them are already 
matters of gone -by history. 'Ro one can visit that richly - endowed and most 
interesting country without conviction that its dark days are over; that it is, even 
now, giving promise to fulfil the poet's prophecy : — 

" The Star of the West may yet rise in its glory, 
And the land that was darkest be brightest in story ! " 




r-"!. CooME Dhuv : THE Black Vaxley to face title. 

'^-2. GouGANE Baera 38 

3. Glengariff 43 

4. The Lower and Torc Lake 94 

5. Macglllicuddy's Reeks 105 

^6. The Gap of Duneoe 121 

7. The Upper Lake 121 

8. The Loa^-eu Lake 127 

— 9. Ross Castle 131 

10. Inxsfaxlen 142 

11. Torc Mountain 147 

—12. Torc Cascade 159 

Map. The Roads from Cork to Killarney 23 

„ The Lakes of Killarney 71 


The Title-page. page 

Dublin and its Harbour 4 

Testimonial to George the Fourth 5 

The Dublin University 6 

Bank of Ireland 7 

The Birmingham Tower 8 

Clondalkiii Round Tower 9 

Kiklare 10 

Dunamase 11 

Rock of Cashel 12 

Iron Gate at Kilmallock 13 

Ruins at Kilmallock 13 

Ruins at Kilmallock 14 

Kilcoleman Castle 15 

Tail-piece 15 

Cork and its Harbour 16 

Haulbowlin Harbour 17 

Anns of the City of Cork 18 

Doorway, St. Finn Bar 19 


The Cemetery, Cork 20 

Blarney Castle -21 

Tail-piece 22 

Lough Hyne .25 

Inisherkeu .26 

Dunanore Castle ^^ 

Tail-piece 27 

Bianconi's Car .29 

Covered Jaunting-Car 30 

Inside Jaunting-Car 30 

Outside Jaunting-Car 31 

Old Car of the Feasant . . • 31 

Old Irish Road 32 

Kilcrea Castle 34 

Kilcrea Abbey 34 

Macroom Bridge 35 

Gougane Barra 37 

Keim-an-Eigh 39 




TaiUpiece 40 

Bantrv Bav 4*; 

The Lesend-Stone 44 

View at Glengariff 46 

Cromwell's Bridge 48 

Tail-piece 49 

Castle at Limerick ... 50 

The Treaty Stone ^1 

St. Mary's Church o2 

The Shannon Boat ^S 

Dunmore Lighthouse 55 

The Saltees 56 

Dunbrody Abbey 57 

Lough Coom-Shinawin 59 

Tubber Grieve 60 

St. Marv's, Clonmel 61 

Cahir Castle 6^ 

Golden Bridge 6^ 

Tail-piece 64 

Killarnev 67 

The Railway Hotel 69 

View from Victoria Hotel 71 

The Arbutus 73 

The Flesk Bridge 77 

The Old Guide 80 

Tail-piece "- 

View of the Upper Lake orf 

View from the Police Barracks 84 

The Tunnel 86 

Killarnev Mountains . 87 

Tore Waterfall 88 

Killasihie church 89 

Brickeen Bridge 90 

Cotrage in Dinis Island 90 

Mucross Abbey 92 

Entrance to Mucross 93 

The Fire-place at Mucross 93 

A Tomb at Mucross ... 94 


Keeners 95 

The Keener 96 

Tail-piece 97 

Shores of the Lakes 98 

Vendor of Goat's Milk . 102 

Devil's Punch-bowl 103 

Common Bagpipes 105 

Union Pipes 105 

Tail-oiece , , , lOG 

The I>lands 107 

Aghadoe 108 

The Gapof Dunloe HI 

The " Logan Stone" 112 

Garameen Bridge 113 

The Long Ranue 115 

The Eagle's Nest 116 

Old Weir Bridge 118 

The Devil's Island 119 

The Cottage at Glena 120 

In Glena Bay : Mrs. Hall's Point 121 

Tail-piece 122 

The Avenue to Mucross 123 

Ross Castle 125 

Ross Island 127 

The Spirit of O'Donoghue 128 

O'Donoghue's Horse 129 

Tail-piece 142 

Druidic Eemains 143 

Clough-na-Cuddy 147 

Tail-piece 153 

Blackwater Bridge 156 

The House in which O'Connell was Born . , 158 

Valencia 160 

In Dingle Bay 164 

Ferriter's Castle 166 

Ardfert Abbev 167 

Tail-piece . ' 160 

Tail-piece 174 


TEAM-BOATS hare done more than either Time or Legislation to 

unite England and Ireland : they facilitate intercourse almost as 

much as a bridge across St. George's Channel could do ; and 

render the voyage, in summer time, a pleasure excursion. 

Little more than the third of a century ago, it was a serious 

business, — of so uncertain a duration that not unfrequently 

weeks were spent between the opposite ports. The *' sailing 

packet" was a small schooner; the cabin, usually measuring 

20 feet by 12, was lined with "berths," a few of which were 

" curtained off," and apportioned to ladies. A miserable paucity 

of accommodation, and utter indifference to the comforts of 

passengers, made the voyage an intolerable evil, to be endured only in cases 

of absolute necessity.* Ireland was, therefore, rarely visited. Under such 

circumstances, it is not sui-prising that little or no acquaintance existed between 

"') the two countries, — that England and Ireland were almost as much strangers 

\ to each other, as if the channel that divided them had been as broad as the 

Atlantic. The introduction of steam has made them, as it were, one island ; 

and the Irish lakes are scarcely more distant from London than are those of 


The results of increased facilities for intercourse have been, that prejudices and 
popular errors are passing away from both countries ; that a more just and rational 
estimate has been formed by the one of the other ; that the vast natural resources of 
Ireland have been increased and developed ; and that the moral and social condition 
of the people has been essentially improved. The upper orders of both countries have 
more thoroughly amalgamated, while the humbler classes have still more considerably 
benefited by the change. 

Hitherto, however, although steam has so largely aided in inducing visits from 
Ireland to England, visitors to Ireland from England have not, in the same ratio, 
increased. Happily, many of the causes that produced this evil exist no more, others 
are rapidly disappearing, and ere long the current of travel mixst set more strongly in 
that direction. The English will be induced to see and judge for themselves, and no 

* The voyage was not tlie only evil. Immediately on arrival — in Ireland — the hifrfrnpe and the passenger were both 
taken to the Custom-house. No passport was required ; but that was his only advantage on landing in Ireland over 
landing at a foreign port. All imported goods paid duty; and his portmanteau was rigidly searched for articles on which 
that dut)' was to be paid. He tendered his sliillings and sixpences in pajTtient ; but they were no cuiTent coin in that 
part of the realm — they must be exchanged for "teupeunies" and "fivepennies" before he could obtain wwrant to 
proceed to his hotel. 



longer incur the reproach of being better acquainted with the Continent, than with a 
country in which they cannot fail to be deeply interested, and which holds out to 
them every temptation the traveller can need ; a people, rich in original character, 
scenery, abundant in the wild and beautiful, a cordial and hearty welcome for the 
" stranger," and a degree of safety and security in his joumeyings, such as he can 
meet in no other portion of the globe.* Ireland will, unquestionably, supply every 
means of enjoyment that may be obtained in any of the Continental kingdoms, and 
without calling for the sacrifices of money and comfort that will inevitably be exacted 
by the leeches of Germany, France, and Italy. Irish civility and hospitality to 
strangers have been proverbial for ages — existing even to a fault. Strangers will find, 
wherever they go, a ready zeal and anxiety, among all classes, to produce a favourable 
impression for the country ; and in lieu of roguish couriers, insolent douaniers, 
dirty inns, and people courteous only that they may rob with greater certainty and 
impunity, they will encounter a people naturally kind and intelligent, in whom it is 
impossible not to feel interested. Even where discomfort is to be endured, it will be 
deprived of its character of annoyance by the certainty that every effort has been, or 
will be, exerted to remove it. 

We shall rejoice if our statements be the means of inducing English travellers to 
direct their course westward, knowing well, that for every new visitor, Ireland will 
obtain a new Fkiend. 

We have said that facilities for travelling to, and in, Ireland, have, of late years, 
largely increased ; recently, however, they have been much more augmented : a 
railway conveys the tourist to Holyhead in seven hours, and a packet, across the 
Channel, in four hours. Another railway, traversing South Wales, takes him by 
large and admirably managed steam-boats across the sea into the beautiful bay of 
Waterford, a voyage from harbour to harbour of barely nine hours ; railways also 
conduct him through several parts of the country, and all the way — either from 
Dublin, Cork, or Waterford — to Killarney. 

There are many inducements to visit Ireland ; one of them, assuredly, is the 
smallness of the cost at which the enjoyment may be purchased ; the English and 
Irish railway companies have combined to bring the expenses of the journey within 
very narrow limits. Most happily, the agitation for "Repeal" is but a sad theme of 
history ; poverty and misery are operating in Ireland with diminished power ; a 
conviction of its approaching prosperity is daily becoming more and more strong; 

* To the " safety" and "security" of travelling in Ireland it may seem sapei-flnous to refer ; but there are many who, 
in utter ignorance of the country and its people, have formed unaccountably erroneous opinions on tiie subject. It may, 
therefore, be well to lay peculiar stress upon the testimony supplied by every writer concerning the country, and the 
report of every Tourist by whom it has been visited. For ourselves, we have never hesitated to make journeys at aU hours 
of the day or night, through any part of the island, upon ordinary jaunting-cai's, under the full conviction that we were as 
safe as we should have been between Kensington and Hyde Park. It is not enough to sa.y that we never encountered 
insult or injuiy; we never met with the smallest interruption, incivility, or even discourtesy, that could induce a suspicion 
that wrong or rudeness was intended. During our various wanderings, we liave been located at all sorts of " Houses of 
Entertainment;" from the stately hotel of the city, to the poor "cabaret " of a mountain village ; we never lost the value 
of a shilling by misconduct on the part of those to whom our property was entrusted. We should, indeed, ill discharge 
our duty, if we did not testily, as strongly as language enables us to do, to tlie generosity and honesty of the Irish 
character. To our own testimony we add that of a still better "authority." At a meeting of "the Social Science" at 
Leeds, Mr. Kianconi, one of the best benefactors of Ireland, whose public cars travel night and day tluough every high 
road of the island, made this statement : — 

"I repeat with pleasure the testimony I gave in 1857, namely, that my conveyances have been in existence now 
forty-six years, many of tliem carrying very important mails, having been travelling during all houi's of the day and 
night, often in lonely and unfrequented places, yet the slightest injury has never been done by the people to my property 
or that entrusted to my care ! " 

There is no other country in the world of which so much could, with truth, be said. 


there is greater trust in its natiiral advantages, and less apprehension of its forlorn 
destiny than there used to be. The tourist is more often cheered than depressed as 
he travels either its highways or its byways. Seldom now does he encounter that 
terrible sight which formerly lowered his spirits at every step he took — of unemployed 
labour and unproductive soil ; of misery that neither benevolence nor legislation could 
lessen or relieve ; of lands wanting hands, and hands wanting lands : in short, to the 
mere passer-by, but infinitely more so to the observer and inquirer, there is much to 
excite hope, and much to induce conviction, that Ireland has seen its "worst days," 
and that the time is not distant when Ireland will be the right arm of England ! 

Let, therefore, those who are pondering how a week or a month may be most 
pleasantly and most profitably spent during the si;mmer or autumn, consider the 
claims of Ireland, and believe that nowhere can there be found so large a recompence 
at so little cost. 

Although the main purpose of this book is to show the Tourist how best he may 
enjoy the Lakes of Xillarney, — and, with that view, full details are given concerning 
roads, inns, guides, cars, boats, &c., and all the minor matters upon which so much 
of his comfort and conseqiient pleasure will depend, — that is not the only object of 
the writers. They desire to lay before him the several facilities for "progressing" 
through the southern districts of the country, and to explain that many sources of 
enjoyment may be opened up to him on his way to or from the Lakes other than 
those he will more immediately derive from the beautiful and magnificent scenery at 
Killarney, and the parts adjacent to it. 

They therefore conduct the Tourist to Dublin by the Dublin and Holyhead railway ; 
to Cork, either by steam-boat from Bristol, or by railroad from Dublin ; to Dublin 
from Liverpool ; and to Waterford, by railway to Milford Haven, and steam-boat 
across ; making Cork, generally, the starting-point ; although in voyaging either from 
Dublin or Waterford, there is no necessity for taking Cork en route — the railway to 
Killarney now proceeding from Mallow, to which there ai'e lines both from Waterford, 
Cork, and Dublin. 

The voyage from Holyhead to "Kingstown is nearly always made within four 
hours ; Kingstown is seven miles, by railway, from Dublin. The steam-boats are of 
huge size, and fitted up with all possible care to comfort. Passengers embark both at 
Kingstown and Holyhead at the pier : there is no state of the tide that renders 
intermediate boats necessary. 

It is ob\dous that by cither of these routes to the Lakes much of the most interest- 
ing districts of "the South " will be passed through, and a fail- general idea of the 
country and its peculiarities be thus obtained. 

We shall, therefore, proceed with him, first to Dublin, then to Cork, and then to 
Waterford, conyeying him by the routes thence to 

%\t %\llmq fillips. 


DiTBLiK is the capital city of Ireland. There are 
few cities in the world, and perhaps none in Great 
Britain, so auspiciously situated. The ocean rolls 
its waves within ten miles of the quays ; the Bay is 
at once safe, commodious, and magnificent, with 
every variety of coast, from the soft beach of sand 
to the rough sea promontory, — from the undulating 
slope to the terrific rock ; and several lighthouses 
guide the vessels into harbour. On one side is the 
rich pasture -land of Meath ; on the other are the 
mountains and valleys of Wicklow. A noble river 
flows through it. Breezes from the ocean and the 
hills both contribute to keep it healthy. Scenery 
of surpassing beauty is within an hour's walk of its 
crowded streets. But no description of Dublin can 
so aptly and pithily characterise it as the few quaint 
lines of old Stanihurst, who says, in tracing its 
origin to the sea-king Avellanus, and giving him 
credit for wisdom in selecting so advantageous a 
site, — *' The seat of this city is of all sides pleasant, 
comfortable, and wholesome : if you would traverse 
hills, they are not far off ; if champaign ground, it 
lieth of all parts ; if you be delighted with fresh 


water, the famous river called the Liffey runneth fast by ; if you will take a view 
of the sea, it is at hand." 

What a glorious impression of Ireland is conveyed to the eye and mind upon 
approaching the noble and beautiful bay of Dublin! It is, indeed, inexpressibly 
lovely ; and on entering it after the voyage, the heart bounds with enthusiasm^ at the 
sight of its capacious bosom, enclosed by huge rocks, encompassed in tum by high and 
picturesque mountains. To the south, varied into innumerable forms, are "the 
Wicklow Hills;" but nearer, rising, as it were, out of the surface of old ocean, is 
the ever- green island of Dalkey. To the north, a bolder coast is commenced by " the 
Hill of Howth," on a leading pinnacle of which stands the most picturesque of the 
Irish beacons ; at the other side of the promontory, are seen a village, with another 
lighthouse, a martello tower, an ancient abbey, and a calm, though now deserted, 
harbour — for a long period the first landing-place upon Irish ground. 

Leaving to the left the pretty island of Dalket, we enter the channel, between two 
huge sand-banks called, from the perpetual roaring of the sea that rolls over them, " the 
Bulls," north and south. But the place of ordinary debai-kation is Kingstown, formerly 
Dunleary, which received its modern 
name in honour of His Majesty George 
the Fourth, who took ship-board here on 
leaving Ireland in 1821. To commemo- 
rate the event of the king's visit, an obe- 
lisk was erected on the spot where he 
last stood ; with an inscription setting 
forth the fact. The harbour of Kings- 
town is safe, commodious, and exceedingly 
picturesque. From the quay at which 
the passengers land, the railway car- 
riages start, and convey passengers a 
distance of seven miles, in about twenty 
minutes, to the terminus, within a few 
hundred yards of the centre of the city ; 
leaving to the right a long and narrow 
range of stone-work, known as the South 
Wall, which runs for above three miles 
into the sea, and nearly midway in which 
is an apology for a battery, called " the 
Pigeon-house," — but keeping in sight all 
the way the opposite coast, speckled with 
villages, and beautifully varied by alter- 
nate hill and dale. 

The stranger cannot fail to receive a most agreeable impression of Dublin, no 
matter in what part of it, out of the mere suburbs, he chances to be set down ; for 
its principal streets and leading attractions lie within a comparatively narrow 
compass ; and his attention is sure to be fixed upon some object worthy of obser- 
vation — to be succeeded, almost immediately, by some other of equal note. If he 
an-ive sea- ward he will have fully estimated the magnificence of the approach, which 
nature has formed, and which art has improved ; and there is scarcely one of the 




roads that conduct to it, on wliich. lie will not have journeyed through beautiful 
scenery, and obtained a fine view of the city as he nears it. But we must place him, 
at once, nearly in its centre — upon Carlisle liridge ; perhaps from no single spot of 
the kingdom can the eye command so great a number of interesting points. He 
turns to the north and looks along a noble street, Sackville Street ; midway, is 
Nelson's Pillar, a fine Ionic column, surmounted by a statue of the hero; directly 
opposite to this is the Post-ofiice, a modern structure built in pure taste ; beyond, are 
the Lying-in Hospital, and the Rotunda ; and, ascending a steep hill, one of the many 
fine squares. He has within ken the far-famed Bank of Ireland, and the University ; 
"the Four Courts" — the courts of law — and the several bridges; to the east, the 
Custom-house, a superb though a lonesome building, and the quays. Towering 
above all are numerous steeples, of which no city, except the metropolis of England, 
can boast so many. 


We must limit ourselves to a very brief notice of the principal public buildings. 
The front of "the College" faces Dame Street, and by its architectural beauty harmonises 
with the magnificent structure formerly occupied by the Irish Parliament. The Bank 
of Ireland — the "Parliament House" before "the Union" — is universally classed 
among the most perfect examples of British architecture in the kingdom ; and indeed 
is, perhaps, unsurpassed in Europe. Yet, strange to say, little or nothing is known 
of the architect — the history of the graceful and beautiful structure being wrapt in 
obscurity almost approaching to mystery. It is built entirely of Portland stone, and 
is remarkable for an absence of all meretricious ornament, attracting entirely by its 
pure and classic, and rigidly simple, architecture. 

The Exchange may, perhaps, rank in beauty next to the Bank ; it was commenced 
in 1769 and finished in 1779, under the immediate direction of Mr. Thomas Cooley, 
an architect to whom Dublin is indebted for other fine structures. The Custom-house 
was designed and erected by Mr. James Gandon ; the foundation-stone having been 
laid in 1781. "The Four Courts" — the building which contains the several Irish 
courts of law — was commenced by the architect, Mr. Thomas Cooley, in 1786 ; and 
in consequence of his death, continued by Mr. James Gandon. It is situated on the 
north side of the lAWej : and is an exceedingly beautiful and attractive object, seen 


either from an adjacent point, or from a distance. Of the other buildings the most 
important is " the Post-office," the first stone of which was laid in 1815. It was 
built after a design by Mr. Francis Johnson, and is one of the finest and most con- 
venient public structures in the kingdom ; the College of Surgeons may be ranked 
next; and next, the Lying-in Hospital. The National Gallery, prominent on one 
side of Merrion Square, is a structure of much architectural grace and beauty ; it 


contains a choice collection of paintings and works in sculpture, and it is free to the 
public. To these must be added the latest structure, the work of an eminent 
architect, Mr. Alfred Jones, where has been held the International Exhibition in 
1865 ; it is " a winter garden," as well as a Hall for concerts, lectures, and so forth. 
The want of such an edifice had long been felt in Dublin ; there is nothing in Great 
Britain at once so convenient, commodious, complete, and really elegant, as an 
example of modern architecture. 

There are many public buildings of great merit, besides those we have mentioned, 
but we must be content with reference — and that a slight one only — to the more 
remarkable. It will be observed that of all these edifices there are none, except the 
College, much above a century old. But "The Castle" is of great antiquity. Its 
history is, in fact, the history of Dublin. To trace the progi'ess of the city from the 
period when a band of invaders destroyed it by fastening matches to the tails of 
swallows, and so communicating fij-e to the thatched roofs of the housi's, to its present 
extensive size and fine architectural character, would be a task — however interesting 
— that would far exceed our limits. 


The Castle has undergone so many and such various changes from time to time, 
as circumstances justified the withdrawal of its defences, that the only portion of it 
which now bears a character of antiquity is the Birmingham Tower ; and even that 
has been almost entirely rebuilt, although it retains its ancient form. 


But if few of the public structures of Dublin possess " the beauty of age," many 
of its churches may be classed with " the ancient of days." Chief among them all is 
the Cathedral of St. Patrick ; interesting not alone from its antiquity, but from its 
association with the several leading events, and remarkable people, by which, and by 
whom, Ireland has been made "famous." It is situated in a very old part of Dublin, 
in the midst of low streets and alleys. It was built a.d. 1190, by John Comyn, 
Archbishop of Dublin, by whom it was dedicated to the patron saint of Ireland; 
but, it is said, the site on which it stands was formerly occupied by a chiu'ch erected 
by the saint himself — a.d. 448.^^' 

Institutions for promoting science, literature, and the arts, are far too limited : 
first in rank and utility is " the Dublin Society," occupying Kildare House, 
purchased in 1815 from the Duke of Leinster for £20,000 — a noble mansion, "long 
celebrated as one of the most splendid private residences in Europe." The society 
received its charter of incorporation as " The Dublin Society for promoting husbandry 

* Until recent!}', this venerable edifice was in a niinous state ; happily it has been thoroughly restored, in strict 
accordance with the original plan. The cost of this work exceeded f 150,000. No visitor to Dublin should pass even 
a day in that city without seeing this most noble and beautiful temple of God, nor without rendering homage to that 
tnily illustrious citizen, Benjamin Lee Guinness, ivho has defrayed the whole of the cost of the restoration, and under 
whose personal direction and superintendence it has been effected, from first to la.^t. His name will be held in honour 
by generations yet to come. 



and other useful arts." I^ext in importance is the Eoyal Irish Academy, incoi-porated 
in 1786, "to promote the study of science, polite Kterature, and antiquities." 

The improved aspect of Dublin will be obvious to all who knew the city even but 
a few years ago. The streets are cheerful ; the shops vie externally with those of 
London; there is a character of comfort and prosperity in all its highways. Its 
spacious squares have been always famous ; many new buildings have been added to 
its suburbs ; and it is rare to find anywhere a house uninhabited. 

Our object, however, is not to describe Dublin. There are guide-books enough to 
which the Tourist may apply for the information he will need. 

The immediate vicinity of Dublin, in all dii-ections round the city, is of great 
interest and beauty. The beauties of the county of Wicklow are next only to those 
of Killamey in fame. A railway is now open through Bray and Wicklow town to 
Enniscorthy and "Wexford, through scenery of surpassing loveliness. Our Tour is to 
the south, by the SotriH-WESTEHN Eailwat.* This railway commences in one of the 
subiu'bs of DubKn, at Ejxgsbeidge — about a mile from the centre of the city, and 
close to the Phcexix Pabk, though at the opposite side of the Llffet. It is in 
all respects admirably managed. The line is the middle gauge ; the caniages are 
roomy and comfortable ; the attendance at all the stations prompt and active ; the 
several station-houses are models of architectural beauty on a small scale ; while the 
great station at the terminus in Dublin ranks, as a public building, with the many 
fine structm-es that have made the city famous. 

Here we commence our tour. 

The first station out of Dublin is that of CLO>^DAXKi]sr — a distance of but four miles 
and a half. At this village there is a round-tower, in a perfect state of preservation. 
Its height is about ninety 
feet, and it measures fifteen 
feet in diameter ; its base 
was, however, about sixty 
years ago, encased with 
strong mason- work, in order 
to protect it from the assaults 
of time. Immediately adjoin- 
ing the roimd-tower are, as 
usual, the ruins of an ancient 
church ; and it is certain that 
an abbey was founded here 
at a very early period. 

Passing the stations of 
LucAN, Hazlehatch, Stkaffan, Salitxs, and Newbeldge, places of little note and of 
no interest, the train stops within sight of Kildake. The city, although famous for 
centuries as a " city renowned for saints," has dwindled into comparative 
insignificance ; some remains of its ancient grandeur, however, still exist, the ruined 


* Tlie Company issues Tourist Tickets, particulars of which will be readily obtained ; they are supplied at greatly- 
reduced rates, l)eing intended as " temptations" to the tour. These tickets have priority of all rights, wliile the officials 
pay special attention to those who hold them. They are, indeed, at all stations, and everywhere, letters of recommendar- 
tion to such courtesies and services aa the holder may desire or require. 



cathedi'al retaining marks of its original beauty, extent, and magnificence ; and the 
"round-tower," one of the "tallest" in the kingdom, still attracting the attention of 
the curious, and the veneration of the antiquary. The bishopric of Kildare is said to 
have been founded by St. Conloeth, about the middle of the fifth century. The saint, 
however, was assisted in his labours by the famous St. Bridget, who established a 
nunnery here, a.d. 484. Her nuns were long celebrated as the guardians of an 
" inextinguishable fire " — 

" Tlie bright lamp that shone in Kildare's holy fane, 
And burn'd through long ages of darkness and storm," — 

so called, "because," according to Giivaldus Cambrensis, "the religious women are so 
careful and diligent in supplying it with fuel, that, from the time of St. Bridget, it 

hath remained always unextinguished through so many successions of years ; and 
though so vast a quantity of wood has been in such a length of time consumed in it, 
yet the ashes have never increased." 

"Within a short distance of the town, between IS'ewtown and Kildare, is the far- 
famed Cijeeagh (through which the railway runs), the principal race-ground in Ireland. 
It is a fine undulating down, about six miles in length and two in breadth, and is 
unequalled, perhaps, in the world, for the exceeding softness and elasticity of the turf, 
the verdure of which is "evergreen," and tbe occasional irregularities of which are 
very attractive to the eye. The land is the property of the Crown, and includes 
about 6,000 acres, where numerous flocks of sheep find rich and abundant pasture.* 

The railway next passes through a part of the far-famed Bog of Allen. The 
Tourist will, however, see little of it in his way. It is of immense extent, con- 
taining above 300,000 Irish acres, i.e. about 450,000 English acres. 

The next station is Moxasterevan, and the next Poktaelingtok : Portarlington is 

* A line at the Kildare Junction branches off to Carlow and Kilkenny, and thence to Waterford. 



in the Queen's County, and sends a member to Parliament. It is situated on tlie river 
Barrow, hence navigable to the sea at Waterford. The county received its title in 
compliment to Queen Mary, in the fifth year of her reign. 

The station next reached is that of JMAUYBOEorGH. Although the capital town of 
the Queen's County, it is a place of little note. Distant from it, hoAvever, about four 
miles, and within sight of the railway traveller who looks southward, is the famous 
Rock of Duuamase, one of the most striking and interesting objects in Ireland. 
The ruins of a castle stand in the centre of a fertile plain upon a solitary rock, and 
occupy nearly the whole of it, from the base to the summit. The accompanying print 
may afford some idea — yet but a limited one, we must confess — of the early strength 
of the fortress and the exceeding grandeur of the scene. Although from its great 
natural strength the castle would seem impregnable — except to "the giants," who, 


we Avere told, leaped into it from a far distant hill, leaving the impress of their feet, 
still shown "in the solid rock" — it Avas several times taken and retaken by the 
"ferocious Irish," and the English invaders, their brave but merciless enemies. 

The Adew from the rock summit is to the highest degree magnificent. The 
spectator stands in the centre of an amphitheatre, gazes over fine and fertile valleys, 
and notes how bountifully nature has endowed the land. At his feet are huge masses 
of masonry, scattered in picturesque confusion, Avhicb form a strange contrast to the 
tranquil beauty of the surroimding scene. The fortress seems to have been built for 
eternity, yet there it is, scarcely one stone upon another. 

Passing the stations of Mouxtrath and Castletown, Rosceea, Boeris, and Tem- 
TLEMOKE, we Tcach the station of Thurles, in the far-famed County of Tipperaiy. 

The station of Goold's Cross and Cashel is next reached. 

All the ecclesiastical ruins (of which there are many) in Tipperary, and indeed in 
Ireland, sink into insignificance compared with those that croAvu the far-famed " Pock 
of Cashel." The rock, rising above the adjacent countiy, is seen from a very long 
distance, and from every direction by which it is approached — its summit croAA'ned by 
the venerable remains that have excited the Avonder and admiration of ages, and Avill 
continue to do for ages yet to come. 

The "city" — for the rank belongs to it — has an aspect almost as time-AVorn as 


the ruins on the " rock," while infinitely less picturesque. The principal street is 
wide, and well built ; but the lanes and alleys that branch from it, and the suburbs, 
are mean and wretched. 

Let the reader then imagine the beautiful pile of sacred edifices crowning the 
entire summit of a huge limestone rock, completely isolated and occasionally preci- 
pitous, standing in the midst of a luxuriant country, " the Golden Vale," and 
commanding an extensive prospect — bounded on one side by the lofty range of the 
Galtee mountains, but permitting, upon all other sides, the eye to wander over miles 

\f j^ i 


upon miles of a richly cultivated and proverbially productive land ; the picturesque 
eifect of which, however, is impaired by the total absence of trees. 

The station next reached is Dundrtjm, and the next "the Limemck Junction," 
where, as the name indicates, the branch line to Limerick commences ; the city being 
distant twenty-two miles ; and this also is the Waterford Junction : for here the 
carriages for Waterford join to proceed either to Limerick, Cork, Dublin — or Maxlow, 
en route to Killarney. 

The station next, on the Cork line, is Knocklong, and next, that of the ancient 
and venerable town of Kilmallock — the ruins of which are seen to the right. 
Kilmallock has been termed, not inaptly, the "Baalbec of Ireland." It was JJie 
chief seat of "the Desmonds." Their history is akin to romance. Throughout the 
south of Ireland, and in Limerick county more especially, it will be difficult to travel 
a dozen miles in any direction without encountering some object that tells of their 
former greatness.* Kilmallock is now a mass of ruins ; miserable hovels are propped 
up by the walls of stately mansions, and "the ancient and loyal borough" — for so it 
was styled so recently as 1783, when it retained the privilege of sending two members 

* The whole central district of Limerick is, indeed, studded with remains, religious and castellated, still emphatically 
speaking of tlie fonner power of the Geraldines— now ruined and decaj-ed. A chain of towers may be traced in 
continuous succession from the Shannon to Kilmallock, indicating the territorial supremacy of the Filzgeralds; whilst 
their numerous and elaborate ecclesiastical structures tell of the wealth, munificence, and taste of that noble race. 
Kilmallock, Askeaton, and Adare are objects of pilgrimage, to all who love tlie picturesque and relics of the magnificent. 



to Parliament — is as humiliating a picture of fallen granrleur as may be found in any 
country of the world : — 

' Tlie peasant holds the lordly pile, 
And cattle fill the roofless aisle.'' 

uji JlLi!£2!inj]''!ini 


WL - 

The ancient houses, or rather the remains 
of them, are of hewn stone, and appear to 
have been built on a uniform plan ; they 
were generally of three stories, ornamented 
with an embattlement, and tasteful stone 
mouldings ; the limestone window frames, 
stone muUions, and capacious fire-places, 
are carved in a bold and massive style, and 
retain nearly their original sharpness. The 
engraving is a copy of one of the few 
remaining doors, braced with iron. The 
abbey and church, being held sacred by the 
peasantry, are in a better state of preserva- 
tion than the houses. The former, which 
stands within the town walls, and adjoins 
the river, was dedicated to SS. Peter and 
Paul. It consists of a nave, choir, and 
south transept. 

The Dominican Friaiy, of which we also give a view, is situate at the north-east 
side of the town. It is subdi- 


vided into a church and con- ' 
vent. The former is again 
separated into a choir, nave, 
and transept, a tall steeple 
standing at their intersection; 
the west wall of which, as well 
as the south wall of the steeple, 
have fallen down. 

A distinguished English an- 
tiquaiy, the late Sir Richard 
Hoare, observes of this Friary, 
" It surpasses in decoration and 
good sculpture any I have yet 
seen in Ireland ; but does not," 
he adds, ' ' seem older than the 
reign of King Edward the 
Third." A fragment of the 
tomb of the White Knights 
lies on the ground ; a small 
hollow in the middle of which 
is said to be never without a 
supply of water. This they call the JJraon shinsher, 



i.e. the ''drop of the old stock.' 



The next station is Chaeleville, a poor town, so named by the Earl of Orreiy, the 
Lord President of Munster, as a compliment to Charles I.I., having been previously 
called, to use his lordship's expression, by the "heathenish name of Eathgogan." 


The next station is Buttevant, described by Borlace as "an old nest of abbots, 
priests, and friars." Though formerly a place of note, it dwindled into a mere village 
with the decay of its noble abbey. Buttevant was anciently called Botham ; and by 
the Irish — a name which Spenser has recorded — Kilnemulagh. 

Buttevant and its neighbourhood — its hills, its valleys, and its rivers — have been 
rendered classic by the pen of the immortal poet ; for Spenser not only resided at 
Kilcoleman — the ruined walls of which still remain — but here he composed his 
" Faery Queen," making surrounding objects themes of his undying song. 

In the neighbourhood of Kilcoleman there are several objects to which Spenser has 
especially referred ; and we are justified in concluding that the country around him 
excited his imagination, influenced his muse, and gave being to many of his most 
sublime and beautiful descriptions of scenery — 

" Mole, that mountain hore, 
And Mulla mine, wliose waves I wliilome taught to weep !" 

The river and the mountain still endure, but the poet's estate long ago passed into 
the hands of those who have neither his name nor lineage. 

The station next reached is Mallow. Here is the Cork and Killarney Junction ; 
and here the Tourist will be called upon to choose his route ; proceeding direct to 
Killarney — or on to Cork, with a view of taking a route less direct, but more pic- 
turesque, and infinitely more instructive. 

We shall presently describe the Railway route from Mallow to Killarney Town ; 
briefly, however, for it is of little interest. "We advise the Tourist to first visit Cork, 
distant only twenty miles, returning thence to Mallow ; or what, we repeat, will be 



far better, taking one of the coacli routes from Cork ; our reasons for tenderin"- such 
advice will be given in due course. 

He will be well repaid, however, if he stay a day at Mallow, especially if he be 


an angler, and will tread the banks of pleasant Blackwater. At Mallow there is 
now a first-class hotel, well furnished, and in all ways comfortable ; moreover, the 
grounds are laid out with much taste. 

Thus far, then, we have conducted the Tourist. The only point of interest between 
Mallow and Cork — and the only station — is Bl-vexfa', which we prefer to describe as 
one of the excursions from "The Beautiful City of Cork." 



The distant appearance of Cork harbour, from the 
seaward approach, is gloomy, rocky, and inhospit- 
able ; but as its entrance between two bold head- 
lands — scarcely half a mile apart, and crowned by 
fortifications — opens upon the view, its character 
undergoes a complete change. The town of Queens- 
town,* with the island of Spike (forming a sort of 
natural breakwater), and several smaller islands, give 
variety and interest to a noble expanse of sea that 
spreads out, like a luxuriant lake, to welcome and 
rejoice the visitor ; its sparkling billows heaving 
and tumbling in sportive mimicry of the wild and 
wide ocean without. The harbour is one of the 
most secure, capacious, and beautiful of the kingdom, 
and is said to be large enough to contain the whole 
navy of Great Britain. Queenstown is seen fronting 
the mouth of the harbour almost immediately after 
it is entered. It is built on the side of a steep 
hill, and rises from the water's edge, terrace above 
terrace ; the more elevated parts commanding a 
magnificent bird's-eye view of the extensive anchorage. The town has, therefore, 
natural advantages of a rare order. On all sides the shore is covered with villas — 
the trees, usually stunted on the coast, grow here gracefully and majestically; the 

* " Queenstown " will not be found in any of the books older Ihan 1849, although " Cove '' has been at aU times 
famous. The name of this port-town was changed from Cove to Queenstown in honour of Her Majesty, who there fii'st 
lauded in Ireland, in the year 1849. 


islands, and fortified headlands, are so many imposing objects witliin view; and the 
gay yachts, which a Tourist described a century ago as " little vessels, that for 
painting and gilding exceed those of the king at Greenwich," give animation and 
variety to the exciting scene. 


The harbour is diversified by other islands beside that of Spike — the largest : one 
of the most conspicuous, Haulbowlin — the depot for naval stores — is here represented, 
with fishing-boats waiting for the tide to proceed to sea. 

Leaving these islands to the left, the voyager passes up the beautiful river; round- 
ing a wooded promontory, the village and castle of Monkstown come in sight. The 
castle was built in the year 1636, and, according to popular tradition, at the cost of 
a groat. To explain the enigma, the following story is told : — Anastatia Goold, who 
had become the wife of John Archdckcn, determined while her husband was abroad, 
serving in the army of Philip of Spain, to give him evidence of her thrift on his 
return, by surprising him with a noble residence which he might call his own. Her 
plan was, to supply the workmen with provisions and other articles they required, for 
which she charged the ordinary price ; but as she had made her purchases wholesale, 
upon balancing her accounts it appeared that the retail profit had paid all the expenses 
of the structure, except fourpcncc ! The Archdekens were an Anglo-Irish family, 
who, "degenerating," became " Hibernices quam Hiberniores " — more Irish than tlie 
Irish themselves — and assumed the name of Mac Odo, or Cody. They "forfeited" 
in 1688, having followed the fortunes of James II. 

About a mile nearer the city is the village of Passage, where all large vessels 
discharge their cargoes, and where an excellent quay has been built to facilitate the 




embarkation and disembarkation of passengers ; and from whence there is a railway to 
Cork, through Black-rock. On the other side of the Lee there is a railway direct 
from Cork to Queenstown. 

The whole distance to the city from the harbour's mouth, about twelve miles, is 
one continued scene of varied interest. To do full justice to the exceeding beauty of 
the river Lee is impossible. On either side, immediately after passing the harbour's 
mouth, numberless attractive objects in succession greet the eye ; and the wild and 
the cultivated are so happily mingled, that it would seem as if the hand of taste had 
been everywhere employed, skilfully, to direct and improve nature. Moore, during 
one of his visits, called it " the noble sea avenue to Cork ; " and an Eastern traveller, 
with whom we journeyed, observed that "a few minarets placed in its hanging gardens 
would realise the Bosphorus." As we proceed along, the land seems always around 
us ; the river, in its perpetual changes, appears a series of lakes, from which there is no 
passage except over the encompassing hills. These hills are clad, from the summit to 
the water's edge, with every variety of foliage; graceful villas and cottages are scattered 
among them in profusion, and here and there some ancient ruin recalls a story of the 

past. A sail from Cork to Queenstown is one of 
the rarest and richest treats the island can supply, 
and might justify a description that would seem 
akin to hyperbole. Its noble harbour, indeed, 
originated the motto — '* statio bene fida carinis" — 
so aptly and deservedly applied to it. The city 
arms, here represented, there can be no doubt, 
were suggested by the arms of Bristol ; similar 
privileges to those enjoyed by that city having 
been granted to Cork by charter. 

The moment the voyager lands, he is impressed 
with a conviction that the natural advantages of 
Cork have been turned to good account. There is bustle on the quays; carriages and 
carts of all classes are waiting to convey passengers or merchandise to their destina- 
tion ; and an air of prosperity cheers him as he disembarks. 

It does not fall within our province to supply the reader with details concerning 
the city of Cork — the second city of Ireland. According to our present plan, it is of 
importance chiefly as furnishing to the Tourist the means that enable him to reach 
Killamey. He will not, however, pass thi'ough it, unless speed be very necessary, 
without pausing to examine its objects of interest, and they are numerous and 
striking ; nor will he pursue his route without taking a day at least to drive about 
the beautiful scenery by which it is on all sides surrounded. A few of our pages 
may therefore be advantageously filled with suggestions for turning this portion of the 
tour to profitable account. 

The situation of Cork is low, having been originally built on marshy islands ; 
whence its name — " Corcagh," signifying in Irish, land occasionally overflowed by 
the tide : but the northern and southern suburbs stand u])on high ground. Scarcely 
a centuiy has passed since the river ran through its piincipal streets, which are 
formed by arching over the stream. Spenser has happily described — 

" The spreading Lee, that like an island fair 
Encloseth Cork witli his divided flood." 




Cork has a cheerful and prosperous aspect ; the leading streets are wide ; and 
thoixgh the houses may be described as built with studied iri-egularity, their character 
is by no means ungraceful or unpleasing. The quays at either side of the Lee — here 

of course a river muddied from traffic — are con- 
structed of limestone, and may be said to merit 
the term so frequently applied to them, "grand 
and elegant." 

Antiquities are rare ; the cathedral, dedicated 
to St. Finn Bar, is built on the site of the early 
church, a few of the remains of which have 
been introduced into the modern structure. The 
tower of the steeple is comparatively ancient. 
The pointed doorway, recessed and richly 
moidded, is shown in the annexed cut. A round 
tower formerly stood in the churchyard ; but 
having been considerably injured by the fire from 
the fort on Barrack Hill when ihe great Marl- 
borough stormed Cork, this venerable remain was 
taken down, and no trace of it at present exists.* 
Institutions, charitable, scientific, and literary, 
abound in Cork; -it has been celebrated more 
than any other city of Ireland for the production and fosterage of genius, and is 
the birthplace of many persons who have attained eminence in literature, science, and 
the arts. 

The jails of Cork — the "city" and "county" — are models of good management, 
cleanliness, and order ; and the Lunatic Asylum is among the best conducted 
institutions of the kingdom. The hotels are excellent ; f and the city contains many 
fine buildings ; the most recently erected, the College, the Athena3um, and some 
others, being now its chief architectural ornaments. 

Promenades in the immediate neighbourhood of Cork are few ; the oldest is the 
Mardyke, a walk between rows of aged but ungracefully lopped trees. Once it was 
lonely and retii'ed, but the spirit of building has surrounded it with houses, and its 
solitary character, its only recommendation — is for ever gone. The new cemetery, 
however, demands some notice. It was formerly a botanic garden attached to the 
Cork Institution; but in 1826 was sold to the Very Rev. Theobald Mathew, who 
converted it to its present use.;}: It is, therefore, perhaps unrivalled in the kingdom. 


* The Cathedral of St. Fhin Bar is, however, about to be rebuilt ; although interesting and full of association, it is by 
no means wortliy of the city. 

t The best df the lintels is " the Imperial," on the South Mall : it is as well managed as any hotel in the kingdom. 
Here a table d'hote is fitted u]i especially for Ihe accommodation of tourists, and the charges are verj- reasonable. Those who 
desire to post the tour to Killaniej' may procure good carriages and horses at the posting establishment of Mr. Cotton, 
opposite the hotel— in Pembroke Street. His drivers are generally excellent guides ; and he sees himself to all the wants 
and wishes of travellers. 

t No writer concerning Cork can omit to mention with honour and homage the name of the Eev. Theobald Mathew, 
who now rests from his labours in this cemeterj'. In the city of Cork this truly great and good man commenced the 
temperance movement : it spread rapidly throughout Ireland ; millions received "from the hands of the estimable Roman 
Catholic clergyman a jiledge " to abstain from all intoxicating drinks, and to discountenance the cause and practice of 
intemperance." The regeneration of the people thus effected can be understood and estimated only by those who knew 
Ireland and the Irish in "old times : " it is said, indeed, that the pledge has been frequently broken ; and that numbers 
have gone back to the evil habit of drinking. This may be — we believe is — the case: but liuntlreds of thousands have 



being full of rare trees ; its walls are covered with climbing roses and other shrubs ; 
and from the nature of its soil and aspect, everything is growing in luxuriant pro- 
fusion. The hand of science has laid out its gravelied paths, and the art of the 


sculptor has been employed to ornament it — occasionally with good taste and effect. 
The whole of the immediate outlets of Cork possess considerable interest, and their 
natural beauties are, perhaps, not exceeded by those of any of the kingdom. The 
Glanmire road on the one side, and the Black Eock road on the other side of the Lee, 
are charming walks or drives : villas abound all the way ; and the river, with its 
many objects of interest, is always in view. The most "famous," and certainly the 
most interesting of the neighbouring localities, is Blaknet — a village about four miles 
north-west of Cork. Few places in Ireland are more familiar to English ears. This 
notoriety is attributable, first to the marvellous qualities of its famous "stone," and 
next, to the extensive popularity of the song — 

" The groves of Blarney, they are so charming." 

When or how the stone obtained its singular reputation, it is difficult to determine ; 
the exact position among the ruins of the castle is also a matter of doubt. The 
peasant-guides humour the visitor according to his capacity for climbing, and direct, 
either to the summit or the base, the attention of him who desires to " greet it with 

shared the blessings of temperance ; a vast proportion of the people are now sober vs^ho were formerly drunkards : 
drunkenness, at one time considered rather a glory than a shame, has become a reproacJi ; and neither "gentle nor 
simple " would now-a-days openly exhibit hhnself intoxicated without the certainty that his societj' would be shunned by 
all respectable persons of his class. Let then those who visit Cork honour it as the city of the Rev. Theobald Mathew : 
for truly his " works do follow him," and his name will be venerated from generation to generation. No man ever bore 
liis lionours more meekly, encountered opposition with greater gentleness and forbearance, or disarmed hostility by 
weapons better suited to a gentleman and a Christian. Kecently his fellow citizens have placed a statue of the good and 
venerable clergjniian in one of the leading streets of their city. It is an admu-able work of art, from the atelier of the 
great Irish sculptor, Foley. 



a holy kiss." He who has been dipped in the Shannon is presumed to have obtained, 
in abundance, the gift of that " civil courage " which makes an Irishman at ease and 
unconstrained in all places and under all circumstances ; and he who has kissed the 
Blarney stone is assumed to be endowed with a fluent and persuasive tongue, althou"h 
it maybe associated with insincerity: the term " Elarney " being generally used to 
characterise words that are not meant to be either '* honest or true." 

It is impossible to contemplate the romantic ruins of Ularney Castle without a 


feeling more akin to melancholy than to pleasure ; they bear, so perfectly, the aspect 
of strength utterly subdued, and remind one, so forcibly, that the *'' glory " of 
Ireland belongs to days departed. 

The stronghold of Blarney was erected about the middle of the fifteenth century 
by Cormac Mac Carthy, surnamed " Laider," or the Strong; whose ancestors had 
been chieftains in Munster from a period long antecedent to the English invasion, and 
whose descendants, as Lords of Muskerry and Clancarty, retained no inconsiderable 
portion of their power and estates untirthe year 1689, when their immense posses- 


sions were confiscated. Tlie scenery that adjoins the castle is exceedingly beautiful. 
We visited "The sweet Rock-close" — it well deserves the epithet — during a sunny 
day in June ; and never can we forget the fragrant shade afforded by the luxuriant 
evergreens that seem rooted in the limestone rock. The little river Comane is 
guarded by a natural terrace, fringed by noble trees ; several of the spaces between 
are gi'ottos — natural also ; some with seats, where many a love-tale has been told, and 
will be, doubtless, as long as Cork lads and lasses indulge in pic-nic fetes, while the 
blackbird whistles, and the wood-pigeon coos in the twisted foliage above their heads : 
it is indeed a spot of exceeding wildness and singular beauty ; at some particular 
points you catch a glimpse of the castle, the river, and the mysterious entrance to the 
" Witches' Stairs." "We wandered from the shades of the Rock-close across the 
green pastures that lead to the lake — a fine expanse of water about a quarter of a 
mile from the castle. The scenery here is rather English than Irish, but every step 
is hallowed by a legend ; it is implicitly believed that the last Earl of Clancarty who 
inhabited the castle committed the keeping of his plate to the deepest waters, and 
that it will never be recovered until a Mac Carthy be again Lord of Blarney. 
Enchanted cows on midsummer nights dispute the pasture with those of the present 
possessor, and many an earthly bull has been worsted in the contest. As to fairies — 
their rings are upon the grass from early summer to the last week in harvest. 

The road to Blarney is singularly beautiful : it runs along the upper Lee, through 
Sunday's Well ; commanding charming views, near and distant. On a hill side, 
approaching Blarney, is the famous and prosperous establishment of Dr. Barter — the 
" cold water cure ;" the Turkish baths are under the same roof. 

We have devoted as much space as we can well spare to the City of Cork and its 
vicinity. The subject, however, might supply material for a full volume instead of a 
few pages. Thus much, at least, appeared necessary in order to suggest hints of the 
enjoyment the Tourist may derive from a visit to " The beautiful City." 



J^^^EAYIXG Cork for Killamey, the Tourist will, as we have intimated, 
have a choice of routes : that which takes him from Dublin to Killamey 
direct by railway we have described. Travellers who have but little 
time to spare, and study economy, may proceed fi'om Cork to Baxdox 
(by railway) through Dunmanway, and thence to Bantry. From 
Cork to Bandon, by railway, the distance is twenty miles.* Bandon 
is situate, according to Spenser, on 

" Th,e pleasant Bandon, cro^sTi'd by many a wood.'' 

The woods have, however, long since fallen under the axe of 
the woodman. The town was formerly called Brandon-bridge, 
and was built by the first Earl of Cork, who in a letter to Mr. Secretary 
Cook, dated April 13, 1632, describes "the place in which it is situated" 
as "upon a great district of the country, that was until lately a mere 
waste of bog and wood, serving for a retreat and harbour to wood-kernes, 
rebels, thieves, and wolves." His lordship adds, as the strong claim of 
Bandon to royal favour and protection, that "no Popish recusant, or un- 
1 |1 conforming novelist, is admitted to live in all the town;"f and Smith, so 

late as 1750, states, that " in the town there is not a Popish inhabitant, 
nor will the townsmen suffer one to dwell in it, nor a piper to play in the place, 
that being the music formerly used by the Irish in their wars." The old and illiberal 
system has long since been exploded.; the bag-pipes are now heard as frequently in Bandon 
as elsewhere ; and among its dealers and chapmen are numerous descendants of the 
Irish Mac Sweeneys and O'Sullivans, and the Anglo-Irish Coppingers and Fitzgeralds. 
The town is of considerable size, populous and flourishing, being the great thorough- 
fare into Carbery. It belongs partly to the Duke of Devonshire, and partly to the Earl 
of Bandon, whose beautiful seat, Castle Bernard, is in its immediate neighbourhood. 

* A coat'h is " put on " during summer to drive to Bantry, through Inchageelah, and the Pass of Keim-an-eigli, tliua 
taking in mucli of tlie picturesque route we shall presently describe. 

t There is a statement generally credited, but which, we believe, rests on no good authority (for we have, vainly 
searched for and iiuiuired coiiceming the alleged fact) that the Corijoratlon formerly had carved upon the town gate the 
illiberal and insulting couplet — 

" Enter here, Jew, Turk, or Atheist, 
Anybody but a Papist;" 

imder which, it is said, upon authority equally apocrjiJial, an angrj' wit wrote the followng; — 

" Whoever wTote this vrrote it well — 
Tlie same is carved on the gate of H— ." 

It is more than probable that the author of the latter was also the author of the former couplet ; and that neither was ever 
seen upon tlie gules ol Buiiduu. 


Prom Ba^don to Bantet there are two roads : the northern and nearest, through 
Ballyneei^, DtTN-MAjrvvAT, and Deimoleagtje ; and the southern and most picturesque, 
along the coast, through Clojstakilty, Boss-Carbeet, and Skibbekeex. Dunmanway 
is a poor town, although the only one in a large district. This is the shorter road to 
" the Lakes," and is therefore preferred by those whose time is limited. The coast 
road, however, has many attractions ; and although, as we shall show, they are yet 
greater by the inland route, thi'ough Macroom, a brief notice of the coast line may be 

The coast-road runs from Bandon almost due south to CioifAKiLTY. Although a 
seaport, Clonakilty carries on but small trade, and is a place of no importance. Boss- 
CiUBEEY demands more particular notice. It is one of the oldest towns in Ireland, 
the ancient name being Boss-Alithri, "the field of pilgrimage;" and, according to 
Hanmer, "there was here anciently a famous university, whereto resorted all the 
south-west part of Ireland for learning sake." It was formerly a bishop's see, but 
was united with that of Cork, and also with that of Cloyne. 

Between the towns of Boss-Carbery and Skibbeeeen, and at the head of Glajstdoee 
harbour, the Tourist passes along a beautiful and picturesque road, where 

" Lakes upon lakes interminably gleam," 

and to one point in particular his attention should be directed — the glen called "the 
Leap," the ancient boundary which divided the civilised from the uncivilised, " Beyond 
the Leap, beyond the Law," being, even within our memory, an accepted proverb.* 
Not far from Skibbereen is a singular salt-water lake — Lough Hyne, or Ine (the Deep 
Lake). In the centre is a long island, upon which are the ruins of one of the castles 
of the O'Driscolls. It is surrounded by picturesque hills, some rocky and precipitous, 
others steep and woody, rising Irom the lake. Our sketch is from a churchyard, 
peculiar to Ireland, devoted exclusively to the interment of children,! and where there 
was formerly a chapel dedicated to St. Bridget. In the foreground is one of the 
singular ring -stones, or pillar-stones, engraven with inscrutable characters. It is 

* Walking one day in the neighbourhood of his residence, at Glandore, Colonel Hall (to whose mining undertakings 
we shall have occasion to refer when visiting Eoss Island at KiUarney) noticed some fish bones of a gi-een hue among 
turf ashes ; his curiosity was excited to inquirj' by what means the}' obtained so singular a colour, and on analysing them 
he found they contained copper. His next object was to ascei-tain how they acquired this unnatin'al qualitj' ; and he 
learned that it was received from contact with the ashes of turf, cut in a neighbouring bog, kno^^m to the peasantry as the 
"stinking bog." and that neither dog nor cat would live in the cabin in which the turf was burnt. Having gathered so much, 
his farther progress was easy. The ashes were strongly impregnated with copper. He first collected from the heaps 
adjoining the cottages as large a quantity as he could, and shipped it to Swansea, wliere it brought, if we remember 
rightly, between eight and nine pounds a ton — a remunerating price. His next step was to take a lease of the bog, build 
kilns upon it, and burn the turf. This plan he continued until the whole of the bog was consumed, and sent, to the extent 
of several hundred tons, to the Welsh smelting-liouses, the ease with which it was smelted greatly enhancing its value. It 
was a curious sight — and one we recoUect well — to see scores of workmen cutting the turf, conveying it to one kiln to dry, 
and then to another to be burnt: while the carts were bearing the ashes to the river side to be shipped for Wales. Mr. 
Croker, in his volume on "the South of Ireland," states that "the particles contained in the turf are supposed to have been 
conveyed into the bog by a stream from one of the surrounding hills, which, passing through a copper vein, took them up 
in a state of sulphate ; but meeting with some iron ore in its progress, or in the bog, became deposited in the metallic 
state, though a large proportion contained in the turf was still in a state of sulphate, which was proved by allowing a knife 
to remain in it a few minutes, when it became incrusted with a coat of copper." Unfortunately for Colonel llaU, how- 
ever, when the bog was burnt out, he considered his operations as only commenced; his object being to discover the vein 
of ore by which the bog had been supplied with copper. In a vain search for the source, technically called " the lode," 
he expended all he had made by sales of the ashes. Shafts were stmk in several of the sun-oundiug hills, and he continued 
the pursuit until his capital was exliausted. 

t These singular and peculiar grave-yards occur frequently in the counties of Cork and Kerry; in the Island of 
Valentia there are no less than four ; their date is very remote. They have been used only occasionally diu-ing the present 
centurj'. • 



immortalised in traditionary lore, and the country people attach great value to it, 
affirming that it has been gifted by the patron saint with miraculous poorer — at least 
for its o-vm preservation. It has been repeatedly removed, to form lintels for doors, 


and to answer various other pui-poscs, but always found its way back again to its 
original station. "With this lake there is also connected another legend — but one 
common to nearly all the deep-bedded and lonely loughs, with "gloomy shores;" 
for Lough Hyne 

" Skylark never warbles o'er." 

As at Glendalough, the sweet birds " singing to heaven's gate" having disturbed the 
saint at her orisons, she prayed to the Yii-gin to silence their song ; and was so far 
answered, that they were ordered into a solitude less sacred to penitence and prayer. 
From Skibbereen the Tourist will probably proceed to Bantry : leaving the wild coast 
with its two village-towns, BALLEDJiHOB and Skull.* To the south-west the coast is 
dotted with islands — 

" Sea-girt isles, 
Tliat, like to rich and various gems, inlay 
The unadorned bosom of the deep ; " 

the most famous of which is Cape Cleae. Ixishekkex, immediately opposite Balti- 
more harbour is full of interest ; its ruined abbey is pictured in the annexed print. 

* At Balledehob are the ruins of two copper mines, discovered and worked by Colonel Hall— one of them so extensively, 
as for a lonp period to employ between 400 and 500 persons. The copper mine of Kippagh, also discovered and worked 
by him. is some four or live miles from the sea. It is the famous mine on the Audley estate, to work which a company 
was formed in London after it had been exhausted and abandoned by Colonel Hall : of course the speculation was a total 
loss to the shareholders. 




The O'Driscolls had formerly castles here, which defended the entrance to the harhour. 
Cape Clear — the well-known landmark for vessels outward or inward bound — is the 
most southern point of Ireland. On the south side is the lighthouse, which, it is 


said, may be distinguished in clear weather from a distance of twenty-eight nautical 
miles. On the north-west point of the island is the singularly picturesque ruin of the 
castle of Dunanore, or the Golden Fort. It stands on a rock ; a very narrow 


passage leads to it ; the path being so steep and high, and the sea dashing and 
foaming against it on either side, the ascent to it is a somewhat perilous task. 
Legends enough to make a volume are connected with this ruin ; it was formerly 
a stronghold of the O'Driscolls, some of whom arc stated to have mingled the 
hospitalities of the Irish chieftain with the daring of the buccaneer. 

The mail-coach road from Skibbereen to Bantry runs through a wild and unin- 
teresting country ; and the traveller who desires to examine the most peculiar and 


picturesque portion of the Irish coast will have to pursue a route less easy of access, 
but far more certain of recompense for the expenditure of time and labour. The 
mountains appear to rise directly from the sea, as if they were but the continuations 
of mountains underneath the ocean ; small villages are thickly scattered at their base. 
Mount Gabriel, bleak and barren from the foot to the summit, looks down upon the 
poor village — once a famous collegiate town — of Schull. 

Lakes are to be seen in every valley, upon the mountain sides, and on their 
summits, from whence pour down the streams that now and then break in cataracts 
over precipices ; while opposite is the sea, with its stores of green islands, or black 
rocks — creeks, and bays, and harbours running into the land ; and beyond all, the 
broad Atlantic, that affords no resting-place for the sea-bird until he closes up his 
wings and stands on the continent of America. 

The ocean with its tales of shipwrecks and piracies, the land with its legends and 
traditions, afford themes to fill folios of interest and excitement ; every castle (of 
which there remain the ruins of many) has its story of bold adventure. The lakes, 
too, are fertile of legends : for examples — that on the summit of Mount Gabriel, 
with its eternal serpent and depth that has never been fathomed ; Loughdrine, where 
on a certain day in eveiy year the islands used to dance merrily, change places, and 
shift from one side to the other from sunrise to sunset ; Ballinlough, where the fairies 
keep nightly guard, protecting the passage that leads from the ancient rath that 
borders it to the bottom, where flourishes the Thierna-na-oge — " the land of perpetual 
youth." The stranger will, in short, find, wherever he travels in this wild and 
comparatively primitive neighbourhood, a rich abundance to interest, excite, and 
amuse, and not a little to inform and instruct. 

And so, by this Coast Route, the Tourist arrives at Bantiy. A brief sojourn here 
will suffice : it will be recompensed principally by the views to be obtained from the 
summits of adjacent hills, or by a sail across the bay. 



MACROOM, i:n'chageela, and gotjgane baeea. 

HOSE who desire to see the landscape beauties of the South, 

to form ideas of the peculiar character of the peasantry, and 

generally fis to the condition and prospects of the country — 

to "whom time is not an object — will take the route we arc 

about to describe to them, through Macroom, Inchageela, and 

Gougane Barra, to Bantry ; and from Bantry to Glengariff and 

Kenmare, and thence to Killarney. 

We assume that the Tourist will travel by one of the ordinary 
" cars " of the country, concerning which he will have heard much ; 
and as it is necessary he should form acquaintance with this 
peculiar vehicle, we will take advantage of the opportunity to 
picture for him the several carriages from which he will be called 
upon to take his choice, premising, however, that in nearly all 
cases " the outside car " will be preferred. 

During the summer months, and for the convenience of Tourists (as we have 
intimated) stage-coaches ply from Banclon to Macroom, Inchageela, Gougane Barra, 
and Glengariff ; yet we shall advise all who can do so, to travel this wild and beautiful 
district at leisure, with a " conveyance " of their own. We may begin by advising 
the traveller in Ireland to lay in a stock of good humour ; for petty annoyances will 
frequently occur, and it is a coin that passes current everywhere, but is of especial 
value there ; and to take also a plentiful supply of water- proof clothing, for sunny 
June is no more to be trusted than showery April. Some one has said that the only 
day in which you can be certain to escape a wetting is on the 30th of Eebruary — a 
day that never comes ; and it is recorded of Mr. Eox, we believe, that whenever he 
received a visitor from Ireland, after his own brief tour in the country, his invariable 
question was, "By the way, is that shower over yet?" This is, undoubtedly, a sad 
drawback upon pleasure ; the humidity of the atmosphere is a continual affliction to 
those who are not used to it ; and is sufficiently compensated for by the fact, that the 
grass in Ireland is ever green, and the clouds are at all times moving in forms, majestic 
or fantastic, of infinite variety. Yet the evil is one that can be guarded against ; and, 
inasmuch as prevention is better than cure, heavy showers should always be encountered 
by anticipation. 

Machines for travelling in Ireland are, some of them at least, peculiar to the 
country. The stage-coaches are precisely similar to those in England, and travel at 
as rapid a rate. They, of course, run upon all the great roads, and are constructed 
with due regard to safety and convenience. The public cars of Mr. Bianconi have, 
however, to a large extent, displaced the regular coaches, and are to be encountered 
in every district of the south of Ireland. In form they resemble the common outside 



jaimting-car, but are calculated to hold twelve, fourteen, or sixteen persons; they are 
well horsed, have cautious and experienced drivers, are generally driven with three 
horses, and usually travel at the rate of seven Irish miles an hour ; the fares for 
each person averaging about two-pence per mile. They are open cars ; but a huge 
apron affords considerable protection against rain ; and they may be described as, in 


all respects, very comfortable and convenient vehicles. It would be difficult for a 
stranger to conceive the immense influence which this establishment has had upon 
the character and condition of the country ; its introduction, indeed, has been only 
second to that of steam in promoting the improvement of Ii-eland, by facilitating 
intercourse between remote districts, and enabling the farmer to transact his own 
business at a small expense and with little sacrifice of time.* Mr. Bianconi, a native 
of Milan, ran his first car— from Clonmel to Cahir — on the 6th of July, 1815. The 
experiment was at the commencement very discouraging : he was frequently for 
whole weeks ^rtdthout a passenger. But his energy and perseverance ultimately 
triumphed, and he has succeeded in obtaining a large fortune, while conferring incal- 
culable benefit on the community ; having preserved an irreproachable character, and 
gained the respect of all classes. f 

* It woxild be impossible to exafrgerate the importance of opening roads through the less frequented districts of Ireland. 
The necessit)' which formerly existed for keeping a large armed force there has had, at least, this one good effect : 
" military roads " are to be found in all quarters. One of the wildest mountain-tracts of the county of Cork was, a 
few }-cars ago, dangerous for travellers at all seasons, and a source of considerable annoyance to the Government. The 
question was asked, " What was to be done?" A shrewd adviser answered, "Make a road through it." The advice 
was taken, andtlie Bograh mountains are now peaceable and prosperous. 

t Bianconi, at the Social Science in 1861, made these remarks :— " Notwithstanding the inroads made on my establish- 
ment by the railways, and which displaced over 1,000 horses, and obliged me to direct my attention to such portions of 
the countrs' as had not before the benefit of irtv conveyances, it still employs about 900 horses, travelling over 4.000 miles 
daily, passing through twentv-three counties, having i:i7 stations, and working twelve mail and day coaches 672 miles ; 
fifty four-wheel cars, witli"two and more horses, travelling l,9:i0 miles; and sixtj^-six two-wheel one-horse cars, 
travelling 1,604 miles. And I repeat with pleasure the testimony I gave in 18.57— namely, that 'my conveyances have 
been in existence now forty-six rears ; many of them carrying verj- important mails, have been travelling during all 
hours of the day and the night, often in lonely and unfrequented places, yet the slightest injury has never been done by 
the people to my property, or that entrusted to my care.' " 



Post-chaises are now but seldom used ; they are to be bad in all the larger towns 
but, altbougb very different from what tbey were when the caricature pictured one 
thatched with straw, from the bottom of which the traveller's legs protruded, they 
are by no means vehicles that can be strongly recommended. In all the leading 
towns, however, comfortable carriages for travelling are to be obtained. 

The cars are of three kinds; "the covered car," " the inside jaunting car," and 
" the outside jaunting car ; " the latter being the one most generally in use, and the 

only one employed in posting. The 
two former, indeed, can seldom be 
procured except in large towns. The 
covered car is a comparatively recent 
introduction, its sole recommendation 
being that it is weather-proof, for it 
effectually prevents a view of the 
country except through the two little 
peep-hole windows in front, or by tying 
back the oil-skin curtains behind : yet 
our longer journeys in Ireland have 
been made in this machine ; it preserved 
us from many a wetting, and we endea- 
voured to remedy the evil of confine- 
ment by stopping at every promising 
spot, and either getting out or making 
the driver turn his vehicle round, so 
that, from the back, we might command the prospect we desired. 

The inside jaunting-car is not often to be hired ; it is usually private property, 

and is, perhaps, the most comfortable, as 
well as elegant, of the vehicles of the 

The outside jaunting-car is that to 
which especial reference is made when 
speaking of the "Irish" car. It is ex- 
ceedingly light, presses very little upon 
the horse, and is safe as well as convenient ; 
so easy it is to get on and off, that both 
are frequently done while the machine is 
in motion. It is always driven with a 
single horse ; the driver occupies a small 
seat in front, and the travellers sit back 
to back,*' the space between them being 
occupied by " the well " — a sort of boot for luggage; but when there is only one 
passenger, the driver usually places himself on the opposite seat " to balance the car," 
the motion of which would be awkward if one side was much heavier than the other. 
The foot "board" is generally of iron, and is made to move on hinges, so that it 

* Tliis aiTangement has been cliiiracterised as unsocial ; but conversation is easily carried on by leaning across " the 
well." Its disadvantage is that the eye can talte in but the half of a landscape ; a caustic friend likened it to the Irish 
character, which limits the vision to a one-sided view of everything. 





may be turned np to protect the cusliions during rain. This foot-board projects con- 
siderably beyond the wheels, and would seem to be dangerous ; but in cases of collision 
with other vehicles, a matter of no very rare occurrence, the feet are raised, and 
injury is sustained only by the machine. 
The private cars of this description are, of 
course, neatly and carefully made, and have 
a character of much elegance; but those 
which are hired are, in general, badly built 
and uncomfortable. 

The cabriolet is, however, now generally 
used in Dublin and the other leading cities 
and towns of Ireland : the fares being, as 
with the outside cars, sixpence a mile. 

The car, or rather cart, used by the 
peasantry, requires some notice. Flat boards 
are placed across it, and upon these straw 
is laid, and often a feather-bed. The one 
described in the engraving has the old-fashioned wheels, cut out of a solid piece of 
wood. These vehicles are now, however, nearly obsolete ; their unfitness having been 
understood, they have given way before modern improvements. The " low-back'd- 
car," which Lover has made famous in song, belongs to this class ; they have, like 



most things Irish, been of late made infinitely more pleasant than they used to be. In 
Ireland there are few turnpikes ; the repairs of the roads usually falling upon the 
county, money for the purpose being annually voted by the grand juries. The roads are 
for the most part good ; and of late years a better system of surveying, so largely intro- 
duced into the country, has led to the formation of "new lines," to nearly every 
place of importance. The old plan, therefore, of carrying a road " as the bird flies," 
up and down the steepest hills, through morasses, and along the brinks of frightful 



precipices, has been entirely abandoned ; and, at present, the carriage will generally 
require springs no stronger than those which are used in England. The lover of the 
picturesque, indeed, will not unfrequently prefer the rugged pathway of former times, 
and tbink himself amply repaid for greater toil and fatigue by the prospect opened to 
him f] om the mountain tops, or the refreshment he derives from following the coiu^se 
of the river that rushes through the valley. He will, however, sometimes have to 
leave the car, and walk through a morass, over a broken bridge, or along a dangerous 
ravine, which time has deprived of the wall that once guarded it. Our esteemed and 
valued friend, the late Mr. "W. "Willes, supplied us with a sketch, that may convey 
some idea of the " perils that do environ " the traveller who seeks adventure along 
the neglected or deserted tracks. 

Persons who have never travelled in Ireland can have but a very inadequate idea 


of the wit and humour of the Irish car-drivers. They are for the _ most part a 
thoughtless and reckless set of men, living upon chances, always "taking the world 
aisy " — that is to say, having no care for the morrow, and seldom being owners of a 
more extensive wardrobe; than the nondescript mixture they carry about their persons. 
They are the opposite in all respects of the English postilions : the latter do their 
duty, but seldom familiarise their "fares" to the sound of their voices. In nine 
cases out of ten the traveller never exchanges a word with his post-boy ; a touch of 


the hat acknowledges the gratuity when "the stage" is ended; and the driver having 
consigned his charge to his successor, departs, usually in ignorance whether his chaise 
has contained man, Avoman, or child. He neither knows, nor cares for, aught of their 
concerns, except that he is to advance so many miles upon such a road, according to 
the instructions of his employer. The Irish diiver, on the contrary, will ascertain, 
during your progress, where you come from, where you are going, and, very often, 
what you are going ahout. He has a hundred ways of Aviling himself into your con- 
fidence, and is sure to put in a word or two upon every available opportunity ; yet in 
such a manner as to render it impossible for you to subject him to the charge of 
impertinence. Indeed it is a striking peculiarity of the lower classes of the Irish, 
that they can be familiar without being presuming ; tender advice without appearing 
intrusive ; and even command your movements without seeming to interfere in the 
least with your own free-will. This quality the car-driver enjoys to perfection. 
Formerly, he rarely took his seat without being half-intoxicated ; now-a-days an 
occurrence of the kind is very rare. It cannot be denied, however, that much of his 
natural drolleiy has vanished with the whiskey. The chances now are that the Irish 
driver will be as commonplace a personage as the English postilion, conveying you 
safely to your journey's end without causing alarm or exciting laughter. Still you 
may be lucky in meeting a pleasant fellow, who combines the humour of the old 
school with the ]3rudence of the new ; who can be sober without being stupid ; can 
entertain you with amusing anecdotes along a dull road ; describe interesting objects 
upon a road that supplies them, and communicate information upon all points of 
importance, without endangering the bones of the passenger. 

There are two roads to Mackoom — one on the south, the other on the north bank 
of the river Lee. "We shall conduct the Tourist by the former, although the latter is 
frequently preferred. 

The river Lee, the Luvius of Ptolemy, from the mouth to its source in the romantic 
lake of Gougane Barra — a distance of fifty-five miles from the city of Cork — is 
exceedingly picturesque and beautiful. It is less rapid than most of the Irish rivers, 
and its banks are frequently wooded. The Lee is interesting, however, not alone fi'om 
its natural advantages : it has associations with the history of the past — numerous 
castles, now in ruins, look down upon it, and many abbeys skirt its sides. 

South of the Lee, the road to Macroom runs upon elevated ground, and, for several 
miles, commands fine views of the valley, through which the river pursues its tortuous 
course, and the hills on the opposite side, upon the slopes of which are many beautiful 
villas. A little to the right, almost on the brink of an overhanging cliff, is the castle 
of Carrigrohan. Two or three miles farther is the town of BxVllincollig, a Govern- 
ment manufactoiy of powder, and a barrack for artillery and cavalry. South-west of 
the town about a mile are the remains of an ancient castle, once a stronghold of the 
Anglo-Saxon BaiTetts. Two miles farther is the small village of "the Ovens," 
famous for its limestone caves. About halfway between Cork and Macroom, are the 
friary and castle of Kilceea. They were both built by Cormac, lord of Mu skerry, 
the one for the protection of the other, and stand on the banks of the small river 
Bride, a mile to the south of the mail-coach road. They are highly interesting and 
picturesque. The approach to both is over a long and narrow bridge, which appears 
to be as old as the venerable structures to which it leads. The castle is described by 
Smith as "a strong building, having an excellent staii'case of a dark marble from 



bottom to top, about seventy feet high. The barbicans, platforms, and ditcb still 


remain. On the east side is a large field called the Bawn, the only appendage for- 


merly to great men's castles — places that were used for dancing, goaling, and such 
diversions ; and where they also kept their cattle by night, to prevent their being 



carried off by wolves or their more rapacious neighbours." Much of this character it 
still retains, and the hand of time has been less busy with it than with others of 
its class. 

In the friary, or, as it is usually but erroneously called, " the abbey," are interred 
the bodies of a host of the MacCarthys, and among them that of its founder, who died 
of wounds received in battle, in 1494. A. considerable poi'tion of the edifice still 
remains. It is divided into two principal parts — the convent and the church — and 
retains a character of considerable magnificence as well as of great extent. As in all 
the ancient churches, human bones are piled in every nook and cranny, thrust into 
corners, or gathered in heaps directly at the entrance — a sight far more revolting than 
affecting. The tower of the church is still in a good state of preservation, and may 
be ascended to the top with a little difficulty. Rows of ancient elm-trees lead to the 
venerable ruin. 

Between Kilcrea and Macroom there are several ruins of castles, once the strong- 
holds of the Mac Sweeneys, powerful chieftains, although feudatories to the lords of 
Muskerry. On the high road, it is stated on the authority of Smith, there was a 


stone set up by one of the family, who were " anciently famous for hospitality, with 
an Irish inscription, signifying to all passengers to repair to the house of Mr. Edmund 
Mac Sweeney for entertainment." The historian adds, that, in his time, the stone 
was still to be seen lying in a ditch, where it had been flung by a degenerate descendant, 
" who never throve afterwards." 

The town of Macroom, twenty-four miles from Cork, is situated on the Sullane — a 


river that for extent and beauty rivals tlie Lee. The castle of Macroom is very 
ancient, or rather parts of it are of very remote antiquity, for it has undergone many 
of the chances and changes incident to the civil wars. The town is entered by a long 
and narrow bridge. 

From Macroom to Ij^chageela {i. e. " the Island of the Hostage"), a village midway 
between the town and Gougane Barra, the road becomes gradually wilder and more 
rugged ; huge rocks overhang it, high hills look down upon them, and over these 
again the mountains tower, each and all clothed with purple heath and golden furze, 
and other plants that love the arid soil ; here and there patches of cultivation have 
been snatched from them by the hand of industry and toil : while from many a small 
fissure the smoke arises, giving token that civilisation is astir even in this region of 
savage grandeur and beauty. 

Soon after passing Inchageela, the Lee widens out into a sheet of water, forming 
the picturesque Lough Alltja. The road winds for about three miles along its 
northern margin ; the rocks on one side, the clear and deep water on the other — a 
more perfect solitude it is impossible to imagine. Not a tree is to be seen ; but the 
rocks, as if to remedy the defect, have assumed forms the most singular and fantastic ; 
and, every now and then, seem to stay the further progress of the wayfarer by push- 
ing a monstrous base directly across his path. Yet a century and a half ago, these 
rocks and hills, as well as the valleys, were clothed with forests to the water's edge ; 
in their fastnesses, unfamiliar with the step of man, the red deer roved ; and often the 
labourer delves out, from a patch of mountain bog, some huge trunk that tells of the 
former occupiers of the soil — existing in decay many feet below the surface. Some 
three or four miles onwards, and we reach the first bridge that crosses the Lee — a 
bridge of many arches. We are now about two miles from the source of the noble 
river, in the singularly romantic lake of Gougane Barra. The car stops suddenly in 
the midst of I'emarkably savage scenery ; and while the horses rest, a guide is sum- 
moned, or rather is sure to be at hand, and the Tourist prepares for a walk across the 
hill to the Holy Lough. 

The approach to Gougane Bakra is now sufficiently easy ; although, a hundred 
years ago, a pilgrimage of two miles occupied two hours. Dr. Smith pathetically 
describes the toil; he calls it "the rudest highway that ever was passed; a well- 
spirited beast trembles at every step : some parts of the road lie shelving from one 
side to the other, which often trips up a horse ; other places are pointed rocks, stand- 
ing like so many sugar-loaves, from one to three feet high, between which a horse 
must take time to place and fix his feet." 

A sudden turning in the road brings the Tourist within view, and almost over, the 
lake of Gougane Barra. A scene of more utter loneliness, stern grandeur, or savage 
magnificence, it is difficult to conceive ; redeemed, however, as all things savage are, 
by one passage of gentle and inviting beauty, upon which the eye turns as to a spring- 
well in the desert — the little island with its group of graceful ash-trees and ruined 
chapel. Down from the surrounding mountains rush numerous streams, tributaries 
to the lake, that collects and sends them forth in a bountiful river — for here the Lee 
has its source — until they form the noble hai'bour of Cork, and I'ose themselves in the 
broad Atlantic. In summer these streams are gentle rills, but in winter foaming 
cataracts ; rushing over lidges of projecting rocks, and baring them even of the lichen 
that strives to cling to their sides. We have literally hopped across the river Lee. 



When the traveller stands within this amphitheatre of hills, he feels, as it were, 
severed from his fellow-beings — as if imprisoned for ever ; for on whichever side he 
looks, escape from the valley seems impossible ; "so that if a person," writes the old 
historian, "were carried into it blindfold, it would seem almost impossible, without 
the wings of an eagle, to get out — the mountains forming, as it were, a wall of rocks 
some hundred yards high. 

The small island is nearly midway in the lake ; a rude artificial causeway leads 
into it from the mainland. This is the famous hermitage of St. Fin Bar, who is said 
to have lived here previous to his founding the cathedral of Cork. It is classed 
among the "holiest" places in Ireland, and has long been a favourite resort of 
devotees, in the confident expectation that its consecrated waters have power to heal 


all kinds of diseases ; making the blind to see, the deaf to hear, and the lame to walk. 
Here, at certain seasons — twice in the year — they assemble in crowds, bringing their 
sick children and ailing animals to bathe ; and upon the neighbouring bushes and 
wooden crosses hang fragments of clothes, or halters and spancels, in proof that to the 
various animals, biped and quadruped, the lake has performed the anticipated mii'acle 
of making them whole. 

These wells are to be found in nearly all the parishes of the kingdom : they are 
generally, as we have intimated, betokened by rude crosses immediately above them, 
by fragments of cloth, and bits of rags of all colours hung upon the neighbouring 
bushes and left as memorials ; sometimes the crutches of convalescent visitors are 


bequeathed as offerings, and not nnfrequently small buildings, for prayer and shelter, 
have been raised above and around them. 

The greater portion of the island is covered by the ruins of a chapel with its appur- 
tenant buildings, and a large court or cloister containing, eight arched cells. In these 
arched cells the penance is performed. The penitent proceeds to one, where he 
repeats five "aves" and five "paters," adding five prayers to each of the cells subse- 
quently visited, making forty to be said at the eighth cell ; and the whole, with the 
addition of five more, are to be repeated at a chapel outside. First, however, five 
prayers must have been said at " the tomb of Father O'Mahony " — a priest who about 
the beginning of the last century closed a life of seclusion here. A spot better fitted 
for gloomy anchorite or stern ascetic, who desired perfect seclusion from 

" The cheerful haunt of men and herJs," 

it would be hard to find ; but here too, undoubtedly study might have prepared the 
early Christian missionary for the " labour of love " he was called upon to undertake. 

The sacred character of Gougane Barra has, it is said, preserved it from the pest 
of so many Irish lakes — the monster worm or enchanted eel. We have heard stories 
of them in abundance ; and " have seen the man who had seen" the metamorphosed 
demon that infests the little lough on the top of Mount Gabriel — it is ' ' deeper than 
did ever plummet sound ;" yet not so deep but that it supplies a home to one of these 
" things horrible." Often, but always at night, the hideous head of the serpent is 
raised above the surface of the water; and if a cow be missing from some neighbouring 
herd, there is no difliculty in ascertaining its fate — it has been made "a toothful for 
the ould enemy." In ancient times, indeed, the blessed isle of St. Fin Bar was sub- 
jected to the visits of such an intruder ; who having been guilty of the imprudence 
and impudence of snatching, from the very hand of the officiating priest, the loneen 
— a vessel for holding holy water — as he was in the act of sprinkling with it a crowd 
of devotees, witnesses of the sacrilegious act, he was expelled the neighbourhood for 
his wickedness, and has never since ventured to leave his loathsome slime upon the 
green banks of the lake. 

The Tourist will greatly enjoy a visit to the Holy Lake, not only as introducing 
him to one of the strongholds of which superstition held possession for centuries ; but 
the stern and sterile grandeur of the place will astonish him, if perchance here his 
first acquaintance shall have been formed with the wild magnificence of Nature in 
Ireland. The scene is a fine subject for the poet ; and it has been happily treated by 
one who " died too soon," J. J. Callanan : — 

" Tliere is a gi-een island in lone Gougane Barra, 
Wliere AUua of songs rushes forth as an arrow ; 
In deep-vallied Desmond — a thousand wild fountains 
Come down to that lake, from their home in tlie mountains. 
Tliere grows tlie wild asli, and a time -stricken willow 
Looks chidingly down on the mirth of the billow ; 
As, like some gay child, that sad monitor scorning, 
It lightly laughs back to tlie laugh of the morning. 
And its zone of dark hills— oh! to see them all brightening. 
When the tempest flings out its red banner of lightning; 
And the waters rush down, 'mid the thunder's deep rattle. 
Like clans from their hills at the voice of the battle ; 
And brightly tlie fire-crested billows are gleaming. 
And wildly from MuUagh tlie eagles are screaming. 
Oh ! where is the dwelling in vallej' or highland, 
So meet for a bard as this lone little island I 



" How oft wlien the summer sun rested on Clara, 
And lit the dark heath on the hills of Ivera, 
Have I sought thee, sweet spot, from my home by the ocean, 
And trod all thy wilds with a minstrel's devotion, 
And thought of thy bards, when assembling together. 
In the cleft of th}' rocks, or the depth of thy lieather ; 
They fled from the Saxon's dark bondage and slaughter. 
And waked their last song by the rush of thy water. 
High sons of the lyre, oh ! how proud was the feeling, 
To think, while alone througli that solitude stealing. 
Though loftier minstrels green Erin can number, 
I only awoke your wild harp from its slumber. 
And mingled once more with the voice of those fountains. 
The songs even Echo forgot on her mountains. 
And glean'd each gi'ey legend, that darkly was sleeping, 
Where the mist and the rain o'er their beauty was creeping," 

The journey is resiimecl, and the far-famed pass of KEm-AS'-EiGH is entered. 
Perhaps in no part of the kingxlom is there to he found a place so utterly desolate and 
gloomy. A mountain has heen divided hy 
some convulsion of nature ; and the narrow 
pass, nearly two miles in length, is over- 
hung, on either side, by perpendicular 
masses clothed in wild ivy and underwood, 
with, occasionally, a stunted yew-tree or 
arbutus growing among them. At every 
step advance peems impossible — some huge 
rock jutting out into the path, and, on 
sweeping round it, seeming to conduct 
only to some barrier still more insurmount- 
able ; while from all sides rush down the 
"wild fountains," and, forming for them- 
selves a nigged channel, make their way 
onward — the first tributary offering to the 
gentle and fruitful Lee : — 

" Here amidst heaps 
Of mountain wrecks, on either side thrown high, 
The wide-spread traces of its watery might. 
The tortuous channel wound." 

Nowhere has Nature assumed a more ap- 
palling aspect, or manifested a more stern 
resolve to dwell in her own loneliness and 
grandeur, undisturbed by any living thing 
— for even the birds seem to shun a solitiide so awful ; and the Inim of bee or chirp of 
gi'asshopper is never heard within its precincts. Our print affords but a poor idea of 
a scene so magnificent. 

Protected by these fortresses of rocks, ages ago, the outlawed O'Sullivans and 
O'Learys kept their freedom, and laughed to scorn the sword and fetter of the Saxon : 
and from these "mountains inaccessible" they made occasional sallies, avenging 
themselves upon, and bearing off the flocks and herds of, the stranger. As may be 
expected, in modern times, these rocky fortresses have given shelter often to bands of 
lawless or disaffected men : here, in some deep dell, might have been detected the 
light curl of smoke issuing from the roof of some illicit still-cabin, to disturb the 
inmates of which would have required a very strong force of the revenue. Among 




these rocks, too, the smugglers had many a cave, in which they deposited their goods 
until suspicion had been lulled on the highways, so that they might be conveyed in 
safety to the neighbouring towns. And here, too, men who had set themselves in 
battle ari'ay against the law, have often met to arrange their plans for carrying 
destruction into the adjoining valleys. 

Prom "the Pass" to Eantry the road is full of objects that cannot fail to interest 
the stranger. — Pirst, he will note the source of a river that will accompany him 
all the way to Bantry Bay — the river Ouvane, issuing from a small crevice in the 
rock, creeping along among huge stones, at length becoming a brawling and angry 
stream, and ere long a broad river making its way into the sea. The ruined castle 
of Carriganass — one of the old fortalices of the O'Sullivans — lies directly in his 
path ; and a little to the left is the picturesque ruin of a venerable church — with 
its small churchyard in the centre of a group of aged trees. A view of the Bay is 
soon obtained — a glorious accession to the landscape ; and just at the turn where the 
road branches off — the left leading to Bantry, the right to Glengariff — is the 
fine waterfall of Dunamarc, at times a magnificent sight. 

At this spot the Tourist will be called upon to decide whether he will proceed to 
Bantry, two miles distant, or to Glengariff, distant eight miles. There are many 
reasons why he should visit Bantry (although he is not compelled to do so, en route 
to Killarney), and therefore to that town we shall first conduct him. 




^jj ITHER by the Coast road, the road throngli Drjr3i.onvAT, 
or the road through Gougane Barra, the Tourist arrives 
at BAyxEY. The far-famed "Bay" is, perhaps, unsur- 
passed by any harbour in the kingdom for natural beauties 
combined with natural advantages. As we approach it, 
along the dreary road from Skibbereen, a sudden turn, at 
the base of a rugged hill, brings us suddenly within view 
of the most striking objects which make up the glorious 
scene. Ear away, in the distant backgi'ound, ai-e dimly 
seen Mangcrton and the Beeks ; nearer, rise Hungry 
Hill, the Sugar Loaf, and a long range — the Caha Moun- 
tains ; among which, it is said, there are no fewer than 
three hundred and sixty-five lakes — the number having, of course, 
suggested a legend that some holy saint prayed effectually for one to 
supply water for each day of the year. Little flat and fertile islands lie 
at the feet of the spectator; and, nearly facing the toAvn, is Whiddt Island, 
with its fierce-looking fortifications, and its fields rich with the promised 
harvest. It is impossible to do jiistice to the exceeding grandeur and 
surpassing loveliness of the scene ; the whole of it is taken in by the eye 
at once. We are not called upon to turn from side to side for new objects 
-we gaze upon it all ; and he must be indeed dead to nature Avho does 
not drink in as delicious a cb'aught as Nature, in the fulness of her bounty, ever 

The road into the town — a town that has been too truly described as " a seaport 
without trade, a harbour without shipping, and a coast with a failing fishery " — runs 
immediately under the fine demesne of the Earl of Bantry — and all the way it is one 
continued line of beauty : we never for a moment lose sight of the distant mountains, 
or the foreground of green islands ; while the ear is gladdened by the mingled harmony 
of rippling waves, and birds that sing among the foliage of the thickly and gracefully 
wooded plantations. 

There are not many islands in this vast expanse of water — " Whiddy " is the largest : 
and there are besides Hog, Horse, Coney, and Chapel islands, flung into the glorious 
bay — landlocked, as we have said, by gigantic abrupt heatUands, beyond which the 
Killarney mountains seem to tower into the clouds.* 

The Bay is memorable in history as having been twice entered by a French force, 
for the invasion of Ireland — the first in 1689 in aid of James II. ; the next in 1796 : 
— some details concerning the latter cannot fail to interest our readers. 

to aclmirc- 

* Were such a bay lying upon English sliores, it would be a world's wonder ; perhaps if it wpre on the MediteiTanean, 
or the Baltic, English travellers would flock to it in hundreds. Why not come and see it in Ireland ? — I^hackjcbay. 




The project no doubt originated with Theobald Wolfe Tone, who had visited 
Prance, after a residence in America, as agent for the Society of United Irishmen, and 
had obtained a commission in the French service.* 

On the 1st of December, Tone embarked on board the "Indomptable," a ship 
of the line, and on the 16th of December the fleet " for the invasion of Ireland" 
set sail in two divisions from the port of Brest. It consisted of 17 ships of the line, 
13 frigates, 5 corvettes, 2 gun-boats, and 6 transports; with about 14,000 men, 
45,000 stand of arms, and an ample supply of money for the purposes of the expedi- 
tion. In their passage from the harbour, as if ominous of the disasters they were 

subsequently to encounter, one of their ships, a seventy-four, struck on a rock, and 
of 550 men on board only thirty were saved ; and a few days afterwards another 
was driven on shore, when 1,000 out of 1,800 perisfied. After other disastrous 
accidents — every ship of the line being more or less injured — the main body arrived 
off the coast of Ireland, and on the 22nd anchored oflf Bere Island, in Bantry Bay. 
Intelligence of the event was, as rapidly as possible, communicated to the Irish and 
English governments. Not the slightest preparation, however, had been made to 
meet the enemy ; and, but for the interposition of Divine Providence, Ireland must 
have been the seat of a bloody and desolating war. 

For several days previous, the weather had been very stormy ; and when the 
wind lulled, a dense fog overspread the sea, so that the French ships were seeking each 

* Tone afterwards made another attempt to introduce the French into Ireland— in 1798. He was captured in the 
"Hoche," otT Denegal ; transmitted to Dublin, tried bj' court-martial, and sentenced to death. He appeared at his trial in 
French uniform ; and, on hearing the sentence, requested to be shot as a soldier holding a commission in the French 
service under tlie name of Smith: the request was refused. On the evening previous to tlie day fixed for his execution, 
he wounded himself in the throat so desperately, that he could not be moved without the probability of dying before he 
reached the scaffold; after lingering in this state for a week, he died in prison, on the 19tli November, 1793. 




*»^ » • 


other, in vain, along the ocean. Of the 43 that quitted Brest, 16 only anchored at 
Bantry ; next day a heavy gale once more dispersed them. On the morning of the 
26th, others having parted company, the fleet was reduced to seven sail of the line 
and one frigate. The force in men had by this time dwindled to 4,168; it was, there- 
fore, resolved at a council of war " not to attempt a landing, as no demonstration had 
been made " by the Irish on shore in favour of the French ;•'• and it was determined 
to put out to sea, and to cruise off the Shannon, in the hope that the dissevered 
armament might be concentrated there. On the 27th, they weighed anchor and 
quitted the Bay ; but on the 1st of January a portion of them returned, and remained 
inactive for two or three days. By degrees, ship after ship of the once formidable 
fleet re-entered the French harbours ; and on the 15th, Hoche himself, in the 
"Fraternite," reached Kochelle, having had several narrow escapes from captui-e by 
the English fleet. 

Bantry was, thus, soon freed from the presence of invaders ; no Frenchmen 
having trodden upon Irish ground, excepting an officer and seven men, who being 
sent in a boat to reconnoitre, were taken prisoners. 

The storm that scattered the French fleet, and, under Providence, preserved Ireland 
from civil war, and contamination by the atrocious principles of the republicans of 
1793, is still remembered in the vicinity of Bantry Bay, where it is referred to as an 
epoch to assist memory. 

To visit Glengabiff, the Tomist may proceed either by land round the Bay, 
or by sea across it. It will be a pleasant row, introducing to a remarkably 
beautiful scene ; but the road is, perhaps, preferable, inasmuch as a noble view 
of the Bay will be obtained from the hills above Bantry or Glengariff, or by taking 
a boat a mile or two from the shore of either. The road — although a "new road" 
— is exceedingly wild and picturesque. About two miles from the town the Mcalagh, 
"the murmuring river," is crossed by a smaU bridge, close to which is the Fall of 

The traveller should not pass unnoticed a mountain, north-west of Bantry several 
miles, but seen from all parts of the road he journeys. It is the mountain of 
the Priest's Leap — formerly the principal line of communication between the two 

* The French had marvellously miscalculated as to the co-operation they anticipated from the Irish people ; who were, 
in 1796, totally unprepared to receive tliem as friends, or to adopt the republican prino'iples and goveninient they 
designed to disseminate and establish. In his memorials to the Directoiy, Tone had represented the Irish as " tixing their 
eyes most earnestly on France," as " eager to Hy to the standai'd of the republic ; " the Caiholics as " ready to join it to 
a man ;"' and tliat " it would be just as easy, in a month, to have an army in Ireland of 200,000 men as 10,000." Whetlier 
he had wilfully misstated the fact, or whether his sanguine temperament had led him to believe that his countrj-men 
would join the French en masse, it is difficult to say; but it is certain that the invaders would have been received by the 
Irish generally, not as friends, but as enemies. Along the coast, the south and west, most distinctly tlu-eatened, the 
peasants were actually in arms — such anns as they could command— to repel them. We have frequently heaid Colonel 
Hall state that on his marcli to Bantry his men were cheered by the peasantry, supplied with food and drink by them, 
and received unequivocal demonstrations nf their resolve to fight upon their cabin-thresliolds against the entrance of a 
Frenchman. (Colonel Hall commantied tlie small force of about 700 men, hastily collected, and foolishly sent " to oppose 
the landing of the French.") In the London Gazette of the 7th of January, 1797, this feeUng is particularly adverted to. 
" llie accounts of the disposition of the country where the troops are assembled aie as favourable as possible, and the 
greatest loyalty has manifested itself throughout the kingdom. In the south and west, when the troops have been in 
motion, they have been met by the countiy people of all descriptions with provisions and all sorts of accommodation to 
faciUtate their march; and every demonstration has been given of the zeal and ardour to oppose the enemy in every 
place where it could be supposed a descent might be attempted." The Gazette of tlie 17th contains a letter from the 
lord-Ueutenant (Karl Camden), in which, after noticing the good disposition evinced by the troops, his excellency states, 
"The roads, which in parts were rendered impassable by the snow, were cleai-ed by the peasantry. The poor people 
often shared tlicir iiotutoes with the soldiers » » » In sliort, had the enemy landed, then- hope of assistance from the 
inhabitants would have been totally disappointed." Every account pubUshed at the time bears out this statement. 



most picturesque portions of Irish scenery, GlengarifF and Killarney, but now 
abandoned for one of the best roads in the kingdom. This okl road possesses to 
perfection the characteristics of the fine old vigorous and uncompromising system 
of road-making, now exploded, that was observant only of the straightest line of 
access — following as nearly as possible the flight of the bird — regardless alike of 
acclivity or declivity, of cliff or crag, of stream or torrent. In this respect the 
Priest's Leap road offers to every student of the ancient mystery of road-making 
the fairest subject for inquiry and contemplation; nothing can be more direct than 
its up-hill flights, or more decided and unswerving than its downward progressions ; 
no mountain elevation, however bristling with crags or formidable the aspect of its 
precipitous sides, deterred the stern and uncompromising engineer who laid it down. 
He carried it over the loftiest summits, the wildest moors, at the bottom of the most 
desolate glens, and along the most dizzy steeps overlooking the deepest dells. A 
savage-looking defile is sometimes made available as a conduit for every ferocious 
breeze that loves to howl and sweep along such localities ; and the loneliness of many 
of the scenes is emphatically marked by the significant " leacht," or stone-heap, that 
points out the spot where, in other times, some solitary traveller met his fate from 
the way-side plunderer. Such alarming "hints" are now, indeed, rare; and, of later 
years, the record of acts of violence, committed in the security of these seldom- 
trodden paths, is a ban^en one. The heaps of stones, to indicate where deeds of murder 
have been done, still remain, however ; and to the present day the peasant discharges 
what he considers his solemn duty by flinging, as he walks or rides by, a contribution 
to the mass. 

To the lover of the wild, the picturesque, and the romantic, this road may be 
recommended. Glorious is its scenery over mountain and through glen. The broad 
bay of Bantry is glistening far beneath, and the blue shores of Iveragh and Bere in 
the distance are noble features in the majestic panorama. 'Nov has the voice of tradi- 
tion failed, or become silent, among 
these hills ; many a wild legend and 
whimsical fiction may be gathered, 
by a little kindness, from their imagi- 
native inhabitants. 

Nearly midway in the course of 
the mountain road stand the ruins 
of one of those small, ancient 
-, churches, whose era, from their style 
— the Romanesque — must be placed 
between the fifth and eleventh cen- 
turies. A portion of the walls only 
remains. The stones are large and 
Cyclopean, curiously jointed, and well-fashioned. We were told that it is " one of the 
first churches called at Rome " — a traditional record of its high antiquity. Outside 
the burial- ground is a curiosity ; — a natural rock of a tabular form with five basin- 
like hollows on the surface, of four or five inches in depth, and about a foot in 
diameter. These are filled with water, and in each is a stone of a long oval form 
fitting the space fully. 

Language utterly fails to convey even a limited idea of the exceeding beauty of 



Glexgaelff — "the rough glen" — which merits to the full the enthusiastic praise 
that has Jjeen lavished upon it hy every traveller by whom it has been visited. It is 
a deep alpine valley, enclosed by precipitous hills, about three miles in length, and 
seldom exceeding a quarter of a mile in breadth. Black and savage rocks embosom, 
as it were, a scene of sui'passing loveliness — endowed by nature with the richest gifts 
of wood and water ; for the trees are gi'aceful in form, luxuriant in foliage, and varied 
in character ; and the rippling stream, the strong river, and the foaming cataract, are 
supplied from a thousand rills collected in the mountains. Beyond all, is the magnifi- 
cent bay, with its numerous islands — by one of which it is so guarded and sheltered 
as to receive the aspect of a serene lake. The artist cannot do it justice ; and the pen 
must be laid aside in despair ! Our memories, indeed, recall every portion of the 
magic spot — but only to convince us how weak and inefficient must be our efforts to 
describe it. AYe are again wandering through the glen — among majestic trees, 
fantastic rocks, and bubbling rivulets which every now and then rush by huge masses 
of stone, and, finding a declivity, roar along theii' rapid way, until, encountering some 
new obstruction, they creep awhile, and anon force a passage onwards, breaking into 
masses of foam — for there the mountain torrents creep or gallop to mingle with the 
broad Atlantic. The song of birds is either hushed or unheard ; and but for the 
ripple, or the roar of waters, there is no sound to distiu'b a solitude perfect and 
profound. We look up to the mountains ; they are of all forms, altitudes, and out- 
lines. The most prominent among them is the Sugar-loaf, Slieve-na-goil, "the 
mountain of the wild people," with its conical head, soaring into the clouds ; and, to 
the rear, Hungiy Hill, with its naked and meagre sides, down which runs a stream 
from the lake upon its summit, until, gathering as it goes, it breaks in a tremendous 
cataract of eight hundi'ed feet, expanding as it falls, and flingiag a spray around it, 
that seems to cover with a thick mist a thu'd part of the hill. 

" Now a blue wat'ry sheet ; anon dispersed, 
A lioarj- mist ; then gathered in again, 
A diirted stream along the hollow rock ; 
This way and that tormented, dasliing thick 
From steep to steep, with wild refracted course 
And restless roai'ing, to the humble vale." 

"We turn from the mountains but a step, and gaze over the broad bay ; the fore- 
ground is dotted with islands of various shapes and sizes ;■'•' and we stand in the midst 
of cultivation, as if nature had resolved upon mingling as much grandeur and beauty 
as the eye could take in at once. We turn again and look inland ; enonnous rocks 
are scattered in all directions, without order or arrangement, but picturesque from 
their veiy confusion ; seeming as if the giants of old had done battle here, and fought 
with huge masses they had wrenched from the adjacent mountains. 

But one of the grandest views is from the height of the hill-road that leads to 
Killarney. Before we ascend it, however, we must visit Lord Bantry's pretty cottage. 
It is sheltered like a wren's nest in its little island. We cross a foot-bridge, made 
it is said, from the planks drifted on shore after the wrecks of 1796 in the Bay, and are 
in the grounds. Crossing another little bridge, we are invited to ascend a soft and 

* Of these islands there is only one of size — Gamisli Island, which contains tliirty-six acres. It is crowned by a 
Martello Tower. The other islands are, Brandy Island, Sliip Inland, Rougli Island, Bark Island, &c., &c. 



srentle-looking hill, and to our delight find it commands a scene fit to illustrate " the 
Happy Tivlley." Nothing can be more delicious, more varied, more enchanting, 
than the panoramic vieTv that surrounds you on all sides; mountain, rock, river, and 
ocean — trees of the most picturesque growth, and shrubby underwood, of such luxu- 
riance that painters there may study nature under every shade and form. We could 
have lingered on that hill until night shut out the landscape, but we had much to do ; 
and. recrossing the fauy-like bridges, we proceeded to drive through the demesne. 
~S\'e do not know whether others may feel as we did the deep silence of Glengaiitf : we 


heard neither bleat of sheep nor song of bird. The weather, when we visited it last, 
was warm — the very sea-breeze blew hot ; and the sun, reflected by the white and 
grev rocks, rendered the heat still more oppressive. "Wbien we complained of this, 
our" guide smiled. " Ahl then it's just proud the weather is to see ye ; and it's the 
other thing, the wet, and the rain, and the storm, we do have to complain of, just 
changing from one bad luck to the other — as Molly Malone said when she married 
her third husband. It's seldom we've too much of the sunshine, glory be to God ! 
The birds are silent, through the heat — they're not used to it either ; nor the cattle, 
poor things '. — there isn't a bleat left in them hardy goats." This was certainly true, 
for every creature seemed oppressed by the unusual and continued siinshine. The 


drive through, the demesne is one of a peculiar kind ; for though art and cultivation 
have done a great deal, the wild, rugged, abrupt character of the glen is admirably 
retained. Patclies of rich brown bog produce the most luxuriant vegetation — marsh 
weeds of every hue flourish — rocks of various sizes form the bases of now sloping, now 
abrupt hills ; while above them are the mountains ; and above them again, canopied 
by the clear blue sky, the eagle floats calmly, now rising, now falling, and then soaring 
away, away, until he becomes to our pained and restricted vision a speck, an atom.* 
Sometimes the drive is arched over by trees ; then you cross a bridge feathered with 
ferns and wild heaths, beneath whose arches a bright glittering river steals along, 
as if half asleep ; then you turn away from the cultivation, and are by the borders of 
mimic morasses, with hoar mountains on the one side, and such peeps and glances of 
the bay on the other, that you are fairly bewildered ; then again you are plunged into 
thickets of stunted oak and birch — and sunbeams creep through the branches, and 
freckle the long dark grass ; and after thanking Heaven for the cool green shade, you 
open upon a bit of fresh prairie, watered by countless little shy, sly brooks, crawling 
listlessly from their " home in the mountains ; " while above them float an absolute host 
of sparkling insects. It was !5Iidsummer-day, and the previous evening we had 
watched for nearly two hours "the bone-fires," or, properly speaking, the Baal fires, 
kindling on the most prominent headlands, and brightly reflected in the glorious bay 

But to enjoy the adjacent scenery to perfection, the Tourist should ascend the 
" SrGAE Loaf " mountain. This will be hard labour — amply recompensed. 

The village of Glengariff" consists of but a few houses. The only " antiquity" in 
the immediate neighbourhood is the old bridge, now a picturesque ruin, which, in 
ancient times, was on the high road to Berehaven ; it is called " Cromwell's Bridge." 
History being silent as to the origin of the name, we must have recourse to tradition, 
^'hen Oliver was passing through the glen to visit the O'Sullivans, he had so 
much trouble in getting across the narrow but rushing river, that he told the 
inhabitants if they did not build him a bridge by the time he returned, he would 

* The " Eagle's Nest — " the cliff where the lordly bird has for centuries made this dwelling — rises five hnndred feet 
above the valley. Csesar Otway relates a story connected with it — so beautifully, that we recommend it to all who love 
a well-told legend, merely offering a brief outline of what, entire, wotild here occupy too much space. 

At the time when the O'Stillivan had real right to the territory of which he was" despoiled, he took refuge, with his 
wife, children, and a remnant of his people, in Glengariff. Here he maintained a guerilla warfare against his foes, who 
were unfortunately almost as good guerillas as himself. At last, driven to the last extremity of despair and starvation, 
he resolved to join his friends in Ulster and Breffny, leaving his wife and children to the care of his follower and fosterer, 
Gorrane M'Swiney. All honour be to his inharmonious name ! Gorrane conveyed his precious charge to the foot of the 
Eagle's cuff, and sheltered the Princess of Bere and Bantry beneath a hut so cunningly contrived as to seem but a rise 
in the furze, or a swell in the heather. It is true, he had neither sheep, nor cow, nor goat ; he had one salt salmon 
wrapped in a rough skin : but he had, like all his countrymen, a stout heart and an inventive brain ; and though the 
country was reeved and rent by cruel Saxons, Gorrane put his trust in the Saints, and kept a clear look-out, hoping 
something would turn up "for good." But still he suffered bitter trouble, because of his noble mistress, not knowing 
how he would proctu-e her food ; and one morning, as he was wondering what he should do, he observed one of the eagles 
sailing with a leveret in its talons to its ejTie, and then he heard the joyful screams of the young birds as they divided 
their prey. A sudden thought struck Gorrane, and, without communicating it to any one, he busied himself aU day long 
in twisting a rope made from the fibres of the bog fir ; and, long before the dawn of the next day, accompanied by his 
son, he climbed the mountain, and. as twilight opened to the morning, saw the old eagle soar away to meet the sun. 
He then told his boy his project, which was, that he was to let him down by his woody rope to the eagles' nest — that he 
should tie a strap round their necks, not so tight as to injure tliem, but siifficiently tight to prevent their swallowing — 
that he would then draw him up. and await the eagles' rettim, who would leave, as usual, their prey in the nest, and then 
soar away to seek for more. Dtiring their absence, the boy was again to descend, loosen the eaglets' throats, and. 
leaving them the offal, ascend with the same, which the bii^ intended as a banquet for their own yoimg. The youth 
managed as cleverly as his father desired — the eat'les provided liberally for the sustenance of the lady and her children, 
until the English abandoned the glen ; when the Princess sought and fotmd a more secure and fitting refuge. 




hang tip a man for every hour's delay he met with. " So the bridge was ready agin 
he came back," quoth our informant ; " for they knew the ould vilhdn to he a man of 
his word." Prom every part of the glen some attractive object maybe discovered; 

one of the best views, perhaps, is to 
be obtained from a small hill — 
small in comparison with its stu- 
pendous neighbours — in the imme- 
diate vicinity of a chapel west of 
the village : it places the spectator 
in the very centre of a glorious 
panorama, absolutely bewildering 
from its profusion of beauties. 
But as we have intimated, it is 
from the road to Kenmare that the 
surpassing loveliness of the valley 
and the full glory of the bay will 
be seen to perfection.*' For three 
or four miles the traveller winds 
round the side of a mountain. Suddenly he arrives on the brow of the hill. He 
is over the glen, many hundred feet over the ocean, which he beholds stretching 
out into space, while the islands appear as dots upon it ; the river that runs through 
the valley has dwindled to a white thread ; the trees have gathered into masses ; 
and the hill upon which he stood, so lately, seems no bigger than a fairy mound. 
Midway down are scattered cottages, the pale smoke from which alone distinguishes 
them from mole-heaps. Thin and narrow streams, like ^ow-wreaths, are running 
from the mountains ; and every now and then his eye falls upon the lakes that send 
them forth to fertilise the valley. The whole scene is within his ken — its sublime 
beauty and its transcendent grandeur — ocean, mountain, glen, and river. He is in 
the midst of solitude ; the clouds are on a level with him ; at times they hide for a 
moment every object from his sight. There is no song of bird to break the perfect 
loneliness ; but if he look upward he will see the eagle winging his way homewards 
in solitary grandeur. We were startled by the scream of one of them flying over 
our heads, so near to us that we could almost count the feathers in his wing.j- 

"We have described the view of Glengariff and Bantry Bay from the summit of the 
hill-road that leads to Killarney. There is another view, however, from another 
height, scarcely less grand. Upon this height is the division between the counties of 

* " The twenty miles from Kenmare to Glengariff form the grandest road, baiTing the Alpine passes, that I know. 
An ascent of four English miles brings you to a tunnel six hundred feet long; on emerging from which, the head of 
Glengariff opens upon you. Thence, at every step you descend, the scenery becomes more and more beautiful, every 
turn of the road revealing some hitherto unseen charm, with Bantry Bay and the Atlantic ever bounding the view." — 
Lord .John Manners. 

t There are reasonably good inns at Bantry, and at Glengariff there are two inns that profess to be for the accommo- 
dation of Tomists. Neither of them, however, can be described as of first class ; and must be regarded onlj' as places that 
will give comfortable shelter en route. But in " the season " even that is not always sure. Tourists will do well to order 
rooms, either from Mr. Roche, at the " Royal Hotel," or from Mr. Eccles, at the "Bantry Arms." At Kenmare there is 
a good hotel kept by "Tom Macartliy." Tourists, who post from Cork, usually take the same horses on to Killarnej^ 
liaving rested a night and a day at Glengariff. Glengariff is 42 (English) miles from Killarney ; Kenmare being exactly 
midway, i.e., 21 miles. It is, however, common to order carriages and horses from Killarney to meet parties at 
Glengariff. Those who visit Glengariff, after visiting Killarney, take the same horses and carriage on to Cork, having 
obtained rest at Glengariff. 



Cork and Kerry. The entrance to the county of Kerry (" the kingdom of Kerry," as 
it was anciently called), from that of Cork, is through a tunnel of about two hundred 
yards in length ; a very short distance from which there are two others of much more 
limited extent. They have been cut through rocks, peaks to the Esk mountain. As 
the traveller emerges from comparative darkness, a scene of striking magnificence 
bursts upon him, very opposite in character from that which he leaves immediately 
behind ; for while his eye retains the rich and cultivated beauty of the wooded and 
watered " glen," he is startled by the contrast of barren and frightful precipices along 
the brinks of which he is driving, and gazes with a shudder down into the fai'-off 
valley, where a broad and angry stream is diminished by distance into a m(>re line of 
white. Nothing can exceed the wild grandem- of the prospect ; it extends miles upon 
miles : scattered through the vale and among the hill slopes are many cottages, white 
always, and generally slated ; while to several of them are attached the picturesque 
limekilns so numerous in all parts of the country. The road, of which there is a view 
almost the whole way to Kcnmare Harbour, is a gradual descent, and has been so 
admirably constructed, and is kept so carefully in repair, that it is smooth and finished 
enough to be the entiy to a demesne, and is classed by universal consent among the 
best roads of the kingdom ; such was not always the case ; at one period it was pro- 
verbial for the poverty of the land and the wretchedness of its inhabitants. The 
misery of the soil has been illustrated by a saying, that " a Kerry cow never looks up 
at a passing stranger, for fear it would lose the hite ;'''' and it was asserted that, long 
ago, at stated seasons, the agents of the lord of the land stationed themselves at the 
old entrance into the county to meet the beggars as they were returning homewards 
from Cork to Kerry, and received the rents of their cabins by taking from them the 
half-pence they had collected. 

And so we reach the town of Kenmare, concerning which, or rather the scenery to 
which it leads, we shall have more to say before we close our book. 




doubt many tourists will visit en route the city of Limeeick, 
inasmuch as it is not distant more than twenty-two miles 
from the Limerick Junction, and also inasmuch as it may 
be taken en route to Killarney, partly by railway to Eotnes 
(twenty-six miles), or by voyaging the "mighty Shannon." 
Limerick is distinguished in history as ' ' the city of the 
violated treaty;" and the Shannoji, on which it stands, 
has been aptly termed " the King of Island Rivers." Few 
of the Irish counties possess so many attractions as that of 
Limerick for the antiquarian and the lover of the pic- 
turesque ; and, with one exception, no city of Ireland has 
contributed so largely to maintain the honour and glory of 
the country. The brave defenders of Limerick and Londonderry have 
received — the former from the Protestant, and the latter from the Catholic 
historian — the praise that party spirit cannot weaken ; the heroic gal- 
lantly, the indomitable perseverance, and the patient and resolute endurance 
under suffering of both, having deprived political partisans of their asperity — 
compelling them, for once 
j at least, to render justice to 

; their opponents ; all having --^v., \ ^'"7"""^-^ 

readily subscribed to the 
opinion that " Dcrry and Limerick 
will ever grace the historic page, as 
rival companions and monuments 
of Irish bravery, generosity, and in- 

The charter of Limerick is as old 
as Eichard the First ; and King 
John, according to Stanihurst, "was 
so pleased with the agreeableness of 
the city that he caused a very fine 
castle and bridge to be built there." 
The castle has endured for above 
six centuries; in all the "battles, 
sieges, fortunes," that have since 
occurred, it has been the object most 
coveted perhaps in Ireland by the 
contending parties ; and it still 
frowns a dark mass, upon the 
waters of the mighty Shannon. Eecently, improvements that have taken place in the 




city have opened it to view ; and an idea of its strength and magnitude may be 
obtained from the accompanying print. 

The city is, indeed, very famous in history. Before it, in 1651, Ireton " sate 
down;" there he continued to "sit" for six months; and underneath its walls the 
fierce republican died of plague. Greater celebrity and higher honour were, however, 
obtained by Limerick in 1690. Early in August, William summoned it to surrender : 
the French general, Boileau, who commanded the garrison — "rather for the king of 
France than the king of England" — returned for answer that "he was surprised at 
the summons, and thought the best way to gain the good opinion of the Prince of 
Orange was to defend the place for his master King James." The siege was at once 
commenced. It was raised on the 30th of August. But in the autumn of 1691 it 
endured a second, which occupied about six months, when the garrison wearied of a 
struggle from which they could derive nothing but glory ; on the 23rd of September 
a cessation of hostilities took place ; an 
amicable intercourse was opened between 
the two armies ; and articles of capitula- 
tion were, after a few brief delays, agreed 
upon. The treaty was signed on the 3rd 
of October, 1691 ; it consisted of two 
parts, civil and military. It is said to 
have been signed by the several con- 
tracting parties on a large stone, near to 
Thomond Bridge, on the county of Clare 
side of the river. The stone remains in 
the position it occupied at the period, 
and is an object of curiosity to strangers, 
as well as of interest to the citizens of 
Limerick. AYe therefore thought it de- 
sirable to procure a drawing of the relic, 
which retains its name of " the Treaty Stone." 
tradition, it is not unlikely to be true. 

The city of Limerick, situated in an extensive plain watered by the mighty 
Shannon, about sixty Irish miles from the sea, is divided, like all the towns of note 
in Ireland, into English town and Irish town ; but a third division, called Xewtown 
Pery, was added to it during the last century — the work being commenced in 1769, 
by the Right Hon. Edmond Sexton Pery. The English town stands on "the King's 
Island," an island formed by the Shannon, which divides, about half a mile above the 
city, into two streams ; the narrowest of which is named the Abbey lliver. There is 
also an extensive and populous suburb on the opposite side of the river, in the county 
of Clare. The more modern parts are remarkably handsome, the streets being wide 
and the houses evenly built : the ancient portions, on the contrary, are narrow and 
confined, and dirty to a proverb. Limerick may be classed among the best cities of 
Ireland ; and it is rapidly improving. The most remarkable of the ancient structures 
of Limeiick, with the exception of "King Jolui's Castle," is the cathedi-al, dedicated 
to " St. Mary;" a large and heavy-looking structure, built on the site of the palace 
of O'Brien, king of Limerick. Its tower is remarkably high ; and from the summit 
there is a magnificent prospect of the various objects of attraction in the immediate 


Although the statement depends on 



neiglibourliood : it is, indeed, the onlj place from which, a view can be obtained, for 
there are no adjacent hiils — a circumstance to which the city is considerably indebted 
for its natural strength. 

The city has been long unrivalled in Ireland for some peculiar advantages ; the 
world is familiar with the fame of Limerick lasses, Limerick gloves, Limerick hooks, 
and Limerick lace — the latter, however, is a distinction of more recent growth. 

The great attraction of Limerick — although by no means the only one — is, how- 
ever, its majestic and beautiful river ; " the king of island rivers" — the " principalest 
of all in Ireland," writes the quaint old naturalist. Dr. Gerrard Boate. It takes its 


ST. maky's church. 

rise among the mountains of Leitrim, and, ri;nning for a few miles as an inconsider- 
able stream, diffuses itself into a spacious lake, called Lough Allen. Issuing thence 
it pursues its course for several miles, and forms another small lake. Lough Eike ; 
again spreads itself out into Lough Hee — a lake fifteen miles in length and four in 
breadth ; and thence proceeds as a broad and rapid river, passing by Athlone ; then 
narrowing again until it reaches Shannon Harbour ; then widening into far-famed 
Lough Derg, eighteen miles long and four broad ; then progi'essing until it arrives at 
Killaloe, where it ceases to be navigable until it waters Limerick city ; from whence 
it flows in a broad and majestic volume to the ocean for about sixty miles : running a 
distance of upwards of two hundred miles from its source to its mouth — between Loop 
Head and Kerry Head (the space between them being about eight miles), watering 
ten counties in its progress, and affording facilities for commerce and internal inter- 
course such as are unparalleled in any other portion of the United Kingdom. Yet, 
unhappily, up to the present time, its natural advantages have been too much 
neglected ; its munificent wealth having been suftbred to lie as utterly waste as if its 
blessings were offered only to an unpeopled desert. 



"The spacious Shenan spreading like a sea," thus answers to the description of 
Spenser. For a long space its course is so gentle that ancient writers supposed its 
name to have been derived from " Seen-awn," the slow river; and for many miles, 
between O'Brien's Bridge and Limerick, it rolls so rapidly along as almost to be 
characterised as a scries of cataracts. At the Falls of Killaloe it descends twenty-one 
feet in a mile, and above 100 feet from Killaloe to Limerick; yet there is scarcely a 
single mill at work all that way. Its banks too are, nearly all along its course, of 
surpassing beauty. As it nears Limerick, the adjacent hills are crowned with villas ; 
and upon its sides are the ruins of many ancient castles. Castle Connell, a village 
about six miles from the city, is perhaps uurivalled in the kingdom for natural graces ; 
and immediately below it are the Falls of Doonas, where the river rushes over huge 
mountain-rocks, aflforditig a passage which the more daring only will make, for the 
current, narrowed to a boat's breadth, rushes along with such frightful rapidity that 
the deviation of a few inches would be inevitable destruction.* This, although the 
most remarkable of the falls, is succeeded by several 'others, between Castle Connell 
and Limerick — the whole scene, hovv^ever discouraging to the political economist, as 
presenting a picture of wasted strength, being delicious in the highest degree to the 
lover of natural beauty. 

The immediate environs of Limerick are not picturesque ; the city lies, as we have 
said, in a spacious plain, the greater portion of which is scarcely above the level of the 
water ; at short distances, however, there are some of the most interesting ruins in 
the kingdom, in the midst of scenery of surpassing loveliness. As we have said, there 
is a railway to Foynes, a port on the Shannon, whence there is a good road to Tarbert, 
and so on to Tialee. 

We shall describe this route at the close of our book, when we are taking note of 
the sea-coast accessible from Killarncy. We need only now observe that there are 
reasonably good inns at both places, and that cars are readily obtained at either. 

* We cannot easily forsret our sensations of mingled alarm and enjoj-ment, while rushing along this course — at night, 
but by the light of a brilliant moon ; it was exciting to the highest degree. We had confidence iu our helmsman (if so 
we must term the man with the paddle-rudder lie held in his hand ) ; yet every now and then the voyage was a stixrtling 
one, and the danger quite sufficient to shake stronger nerves th;in ours. He had nothing to do but to keep a keen ej-e 
upon the rocks at either side, and guide his " cot " by pushing aside a wave with a strong arm, so as to keep in the centre 
of the current ; and he did so with wonderful accuracy. We were afterwards convinced that there was in reality no 
more peril than there would liave been upon the Thames ; for the boatmen are so skilful and so well practised, tluit they 
govern their boats with absolute certainty. The boats are flat-bottomed (for often the stream is not above a few inches 

deep% narrowed, and squared at the stem and stern. The paddle is a jiiece of flat wood, about three feet long, increasing 
from the handle to the breadth of about ten inches ; only one is used, wliich the man changes from side to side, according 
to the direction in which he desires to proceed -using it aliernatelj' to advance the boat, and as a lielm to steer its course. 
We refer more especially to the boats used by tlie fislicrmen, in which the oars are seldom resorted to; for they are 
pushed up tlie stream by a long pole, and the current takes them down it without an effort. 


MONG the cities of Ireland "Wateefoed city holds high rank. 
Its harbour is reached by steam-boats — large, commodious, 
and very comfortable, which ply daily from Milfoed Haven.* 
The voyage across usually occupies, from port to port, nine 
hours ; but two hours are occupied within the harbours. There 
is consequently sufficient time, before the vessel reaches the 
open sea, for all pleasant or needful preparations on the part 
of those to whom a sea-trip under the best circumstances is an 
affliction : the steam-boats are admirably regulated. The 
times of sailing and arrival are so arranged as to enable 
visitors to see both harbours to advantage, and to have 
night only when the open sea is traversed. Among the other advan- 
tages of this route, it should be stated that on both sides — at Milford 
r Haven and at Waterforcl — voyagers " walk on board" from the quays : at 
.., li I Waterford passengers are landed near to a good and well-conducted hotel — 
V ' ■ and at Milford Haven, close to the terminus, the Company have built an hotel, 
with all modern improvements, supplying all requisite comforts. The usual 
"Tourists' tickets" are of course issued by the South Wales Company. 

Wateefoed Haebotje is exceedingly beautiful ; not so richly planted or ornamented 
by villas as that of Cork, yet scarcely inferior to it in the grace of its foreground, and 
the grandeur of the mountains that look down upon it. But Waterford has one great 
advantage over its neighbour — the river Suir is navigable for very large ships ; having 
sufficient depth of water to allow vessels of from 800 to 1,000 tons burden to discharge 
their cargoes at the quay. The Malcolmsons, famous merchants of the city, have 
indeed built there vessels of larg-e size, which trade to all parts of the world ; and 
their steam-boats, built also in Waterford, are among the largest and best of the 
trading ships of the kingdom. The quay is um^ivalled in Ireland, and, perhaps, in 
England. It is a mile in length, and in a continuous line. At its western extremity, 
connecting the city with the county of Kilkenny, is a wooden bridge across the Suir ; 
it is 832 feet in length and forty in breadth ; supported on stone abutments and forty 
sets of piers of oak. 

* The South Wales Eailway— which joins the Great Western at Gloucester— conveys passengers to Milford Haven 
through a very delightful and higlily picturesque district. It leads also to the beautiful sea-bathing place, Tenby, -where 
there are attiactions as large and as numerous as can be found in any of the sea-side towns of the kingdom, frequently 
passing through delicious sceneiy— especially the Vale of Neath and Chepstow on the Wye, and for a very long distance 
by the side of "rapid Severn." 



Waterford Harbour, from the sea to the quay, is in length eighteen miles ; but 
seldom more than a quarter of a mile in breadth. The two places most famous on the 
coast, in Waterford county, are Duxmotie and Teamoee — the former being immediately 
within the harbour, while to the latter there is a railway from the city. Both are 
favourite bathing-places ; but Dunmore long enjoyed the advantage of being a govern- 
ment packet station, and possesses both a lighthouse and a pier. The village is 


beautifully situated ; the coast is bold and rocky, and it is immediately upon the sea. 
The pier is 600 feet in length, and the cost of the works is believed to have exceeded 
£100,000, a sum immensely disproportionate to their value to the public. "A DruiJs' 
altar" stands on a wild and rocky eminence near Dunmore. It commands a view, 
on one side of the estuary, of the Suir with Cremla Island and Hook Tower, and 
on the other the great bay of Tramore, with the rugged precipices of the Cuma rocks 
in the distance. 

On the "VVaterford side of the bay, the only other object that will attract notice is 
the village of Passage ; now a ruinous place, having succumbed to steam, and the 
several harbour improvements which prevent a necessity for vessels resting there. 

To the opposite — the northern — side of the harbour, the attention of the voyager 
will be directed : from its commencement in the county of Wexford to its continua- 
tion into the county of Kilkexxy. 

On entering, the eye will be at once directed to the famous tower of Hook:, 
standing at the extremity of the peninsula which divides the harbour from the Bay 
OF Baxnow ; it has been converted into a lighthouse, and occupies a point of land 
high above the ocean ; one of the many marks to mariners with which Wexford 
county abounds. From its summit there is a magnificent view of the coast, with 
its numerous creeks and bays, and miniature harbours ; its bold barrier of rocks, 
and the small islands that dot the surface of the ocean. First in interest and 



importance is the small promontory of Bag-an-Bun, where, according to the ancient 
couplet — 

" Irelonde was lost aud won," 

and where the first hostile Englishman trode upon Irish soil. Farther inland is the 
castle and village of Fethaed — a corruption of "Fought hard" — where the Irish 
made theii- earliest stand against the onward march of the Anglo-Xorman invaders,* 
under Strongbow. At the extremity of its broad bay is the ancient abbey of Tinteex ; 
and, at the termination of a narrow creek, are the seven castles of Clonraines. On the 
land opposite, the old church of Bannow crowns the summit of a small hill that looks 
down upon " the Irish Herculaneum " — a town buried long ago in the sand. Looking 
seaward again, tlie eye falls upon the two small islands called " the Keeroes" — then 

upon a narrow neck of land, that, 

-t:-."; -' _ • stretching across from one penin- 

•*:;-s^_^I;: sula until it almost touches an- 

... c^-'-l:#^^- A. ;- other, forms the lough of Bally- 

--,^^:: s' TEAGTiE ; due south of which are 

--^^^^ ^ the far-famed Saxtees, famous in 

]^ the sea-calendar ; for to mariners 

the sound was, for a long period, 
one of fear. Farther west, again, 
and passing Carnsore Point, is 
the TusKAE rock, beside which 
many a gallant vessel went down, 
the calamity being briefly noticed 
Avith the melancholy postscript, 
"All hands perished." But 
Wexford county is now far less 
perilous than of yore ; for from 
the very spot — the Tower of 
Hook — on which we have placed 
the reader, we may count at least half a score of " lights ;" and wrecks are now com- 
paratively rare upon this once merciless coast. 

The object that will next claim attention is Duncannon Fort, occupying a small 
promontory nearly midway in the harbour ; it is still a fortification, as it was so far 
back as the reign of Henry VI. : but is maintained more for show than defence. 

Passing the village of Ballthace:, immediately opposite Passage, and famous for 
its old castle and " dirty butter," we come in view of the ruins of DuxBEonv Abbey, 
just where the Suir, the JS'ore, and the Barrow meet, in the harbour of Waterford. 
The abbey was founded, according to "Ware, by Hervey de Montmarisco, for Cistercian 
monks, in 1182. The remains are very extensive, and in a good state of preservation. 


* The first invading army was headed by Robert Fitzstephen, who preceded Strongbow by about two years. Tradition 
states that Fitzstephen embarked his forces in two ships, called the Bagg and the Bunn, and hence the name of the 
promontorj'. Holin.^hed, in liis notes on Giraldus Cambrensis, favours this opinion. "There were," he says, '■ certain 
monuments made in niemorie thereof, and were named the Banner and the Boenne, which were the names (as common 
fame is) of the two greatest ships in which the Englih arrived." When the ships of .Strongliow were entering Wateiford 
Harbour, he perceived on the one shore a tower, and on the otlier a church ; and inquiring their names was answered, 
" The tower of Hook, and the church of Crook." " I hen," said he, '• we must enter and take the town by Hook or by 
Crook." Hence originated a proverb now in connnon use. 



The scene here is charming ; the voyager will see with delight the union of the 
" goodlie BaiTow," the " stubborn IS'ore," and the " gentle Suire." 

Hence, and indeed long previously, both sides of the bay are dotted with good 
houses or fine mansions in the midst of pleasant woods ; and if we find the harbour of 
AYaterford less grand and spacious than that of Dublin, and less picturesque, beautiful, 
and richly cultivated than that of Cork, we shall, at all events, consider it very 
attractive, and feel assured that no bay of the United Kingdom has been gifted with 
more or greater capabilities. 

The city of Waterfbrd ranks among the oldest and most famous of the cities of 
Ireland. It was anciently called " Cuan-na-Grioth" — the Harbour of the Sun; and 
its existence is said to be dated so far back as a.d. 155. Certain it is, however, that 
it was a place of some note in the ninth century, when it was a colony of the Danes, 
who retained possession of it until the invasion of Ireland in 1171. A singular 
round castle still stands on the qnaj, and bears an inscription, signed by Sir John 
Newport, Bart., as mayor, which records that it was erected by Reginald the Dane, 
in the year 1003; was held as a fortress by Strongbow, in 1171; was used as 
a mint, by statute 3rd Edward IV. in 1463 ; and that in the year 1819 it was 
converted into a jail for refractoiy boys and sturdy beggars. From the Danes the 
city is said to have derived its name — AVaterford being considered a coiTuption of 
" Vader Fiord," the Ford of the Father, or the Great Haven, for it has received both 


translations. In the various contests of which Ireland has been the arena, Waterford 
has played a conspicuous part ; having endured sieges from Strongbow, Cromwell, and 
William III., to say nothing of Perkin Warbeck, against whom the citizens fought 
lustily for eleven days, bringing many prisoners into the city, " who had their heads 
chopped oft" in the market-place." For their gallantry they received, among other 
honour's, the motto they still retain — 


The Cathedral of Waterford is reported to have been originally built by the Danes 
in 1096, when they first embraced Christianity; and, befoie it was "improved," is 



said to have been a stately and venerable edifice ; its character is now very incon- 
gruous. Perhaps no city of Ireland presents a more imposing view than that obtained 
from the square, at which passengers land, immediately fronting Eeginald's Tower ; 
high steeps on the other side of the river, in the county of Kilkenny, are crowned 
with villas, embowered in pleasant woods ; the quays are full of bustle, where many 
ships are unloading, and the long, yet picturesque bridge is seen at their extremity. 
We cross the bridge to the railway terminus ; having sojourned awhile at one of the 
hotels, of which the city of course has several — none of them of a high class, but all 
sufl&ciently comfortable, and we are en route to Killarney. 

The railway to the Limerick Junction was constructed in 1850-4, by the eminent 
engineer George Willoughby Hemans, Esq. (a son of the poetess), and is among the 
most successful railway achievements of the kingdom. Its extent to the Limerick 
Junction is 55 miles : all the way through the counties of Kilkenny and Tipperary ; 
the county of Waterford being on the southern side of the Suir. We briefly describe 
this route, premising that neither in England nor in Ireland is there a line which 
aff'ords a larger amount of pictorial beauty than we find here during its first thirty 

The river Suir — the "gentle Suire" of Spenser — 

" that, making way 
By sweet Clonmel, adorns rich Waterford " — 

ranks among the noblest rivers of Ireland ; it is broad, deep, not too rapid, and its 
character is highly picturesque, both above and below the city. It is by the side of 
this river the railway goes a long way. The first station is Grange, the next Poet- 
law. Portlaw is now a flourishing town, made so by the " Malcolmsons." A few 
years ago it was a wretched village, among the most wretched of Ireland. It now, 
we understand, contains 5,000 inhabitants; for here is the cotton factory of this 
enterprising family ; here it is manufactured ; and hence it is sent in their own vessels, 
built in Waterford, to all parts of the world. The Messrs. Malcolmson have made — 
deservedly and most honourably made — large fortunes by this concern ; and they have 
set an example we may hope to see extensively followed. 

It has, indeed, been for a long time obvious that Ireland, with its immense water- 
power and its superabundant population, living cheaply, and therefore able to work 
cheaply, was peculiarly calculated to manufacture articles in cotton ; but, unhappily, 
there has been so entire a want of confidence in the steadiness and sobriety of the 
people, that few were found willing to risk a property which might be destroyed by 
the evil passions or caprice of a single individual, influencing other individuals. 
Happily, all difficulties of this kind are now removed ; capital is rapidly finding its 
way into Ireland, and there can be no doubt of its being at no distant period " a great 
manufacturing country," in which there will be many places flourishing like Portlaw, 
under the auspices of other such men as the Malcolmsons. 

All the way, after leaving Waterford, we have views of ranges of mountains. 
But the CoMMEEAGH mountains, which occupy the centre of the county, and are seen 
from all parts of it, as well as from a considerable portion of Tipperary, are those 

* The traveller should take the left-hand seat in the railway going from Waterford. 



whicti merit especial notice. They present a varied and picturesque outline from 
every point of view ; and from the sea, or southern side, are "well known to mariners, 
by whom they are called "the high lands of Dungarvon." But the greatest natural 
curiosity in these mountains is the appearance and site of a nearly circular lake, 
by name Coom-shinawin, i.e. " The Yalley of Ants." 

Nearing Portlaw, we have views of the grounds of Cureaghmore, the seat of the 
Marquis of Waterford, and of the exquisitely beautiful demesne of Coolnamuch, the 
residence of his brother. Cur- _ -^~-^_- 

raghmore Park is extensive, -:^^feS^^fec-. 

containing nearly 5,000 statute ^^^ ^^^ 

acres of land, planted with the - , =^^ ^^^^^^^ 

rarest trees. "The character _?■- 

of Curraghmore " ( we copy from _ ^ :&:_ _ 

the Rev. Mr. Ryland's excel- . ^ ^:. 

lent history of the county) "is /^^ ■ 'f 

grandeur ; not that arising from 
the costly and laborious exer- 
tions of man, but rather the 
magnificence of nature. The 
beauty of the situation consists 
in the lofty hills, rich vales, 
and almost impenetrable woods, 
which deceive the eye, and give 
the idea of boundless forests. 
The variety of the scenery is 
calculated to please in the 
highest degree, and to gratify 
every taste ; from the lofty 
mountain to the quiet and se- 
questered walk on the bank of 
the river, every gradation of 
rural beauty may be enjoyed." Not far from the grounds, and adjoining the Suir 
towards Clonmcl, is the picturesque well of Tubber Grieve, a holy well in high repute 
with the peasantry. We introduce it here ; for, although it is not likely to be visited 
by the passing stranger, he will see many like it in various parts of the country ; 
peasants kneeling about the place, or drinking of its "healing waters;" the thorn- 
bush hung with bits of rags being alluost invariably close by, containing the votive 
ofterings of devotees. These- holy wells, however, are far less numerous than they 
used to be, and arc gradually losing their influence. 

We next arrive at Carrick-on-Suir, a prosperous town, with its picturesque 
castle jutting out into the stream. Near to Carrick is the ancient residence of the 
Osbornes ; but here, unhappily, occurs an awkward detonr, which carries the line 
away from the river. It is, however, soon regained, and we journey by its side into 
Clonmcl, the capital town of the county of Tippcrary. 

The origin of Clonmel is very ancient, and the traditional account of it is fanciful. 
The Tuatha-de-danaans, a primitive people of Ireland, who have been identified with 
the Pelasgi and Titans of the continent, wishing to select a site for a settlement, and 




being skilled in augury, were guided in their choice by the following omen : — They 
let off a swarm of bees, and observing where it settled, there erected their baile, or 
circular fort, and gave the spot the significant name of Cluain-mealla, i.e., *' The plain 
of honey." This very spot is still pointed out. A castle was erected on it in later 
times in place of the aboriginal fort ; and it was before this castle that Cromwell 
sustained the severest repulse he received in Ireland, losing about 2,000 men ; nor 
would it have surrendered but for the failure of ammunition, the garrison having, it is 
said, fired away even their buttons. It is also recorded that Cromwell had actually 
ordered his army to retreat, and as they were marching off he spied something 
glittering in the grass, which he took up, and found to be a silver bullet. This incident 


suggested the straits to which the gamson was reduced ; he accordingly renewed the 
siege, and the castle was surrendered, but on very favourable terms. The town has 
a very "business air; " and is indeed conspicuous for its prosperity, being the great 
outlet for the produce of the county, the Suir being navigable for vessels of size to 
within a short distance of its quays. Its population exceeds 20,000, and the number 
of houses is above 1,500. The surrounding scenery is remarkably beautiful, combining 
every variety of landscape, from the alpine to the pastoral ; the Commera mountains 
which rise to the south, appearing to terminate the streets. There are several agree- 
able walks in the immediate vicinity of the town, the principal of which are the 
Wilderness, which for solemn gloom and wild grandeur might convey no inadequate 
idea of that in which the Baptist preached ; the Hound of Heywood, a charming 
sylvan walk; the Green, commanding a delightful prospect of the river; Fairy-hill 
Road, the fashionable promenade ; and the Quay, from which there is another 
pleasing view of the river. 

The principal church at Clonmel, St. Mary's, is picturesque in character, and of 
great antiquity. The steeple is unique in structure, being an embattled octagon tower 
rising from a square base. Close to the summit of the steeple, and in each of the 



eight sides, is a large opening in the form of a Gothic window, to allow free trans- 
mission to the sound of a chime of bells placed in the tower. The east window is 
extremely beautiful : it assumes the form of a double Gothic tracery window, having 
the space between the two arches filled by a rich cinquefoil, or rather septemfoil, and is 
perhaps as old as the twelfth century. A stained-glass window has lately been put in. 
At the east corner of the church (and nearly opposite to the steeple, which is at the 
north), are the remains of a strong square tower, similar to the one forming the base 
of the octagon steeple. The principal entrance to the church is from the graveyard. 

'"">'£A j^L-^/s*' 


through a stone Gothic portico, which, though well built, docs not hamionise at all 
with the general tone and character of the building. Surrounding three sides of 
the graveyard are the remains of the old town wall, on which, with a view more 
effectually to protect it, are small square towers at stated intervals ; at the north- 
west angle of the wall is a massive bomb-proof tower, called "the Magazine;" 
about 120 yards south of this tower, thei'e is a portion of the wall wanting, which 
tradition points out as being the breach made by Cromwell when he besieged and took 

Clonmcl is remarkable as the birthplace of Lawrence Sterne ; and of this town the 
accomplished Countess of Blessington was also a native. 

The station next to Clonmcl is Cahie. Passing by the prosperous and well-managed 
estate of Lord Glengall, we come in view of " the Castle," which stands on the river 
Suir, and was, as well as the town it protected, very famous in former times. It is said, 



however, to occupy tlie site of a structure of the remotest antiquity — its ancient 
name being " Cahirdimaascni'gh, or, 'The circular stone fortress of the fish-abounding 
Dun, or fort;' a name which appears to be tautological, and which can only he 
accounted for by the supposition that an earthen Bun, or fort, had originally occupied 


the site on which a Caliir, or stone fort, was erected subsequently." It is of con- 
siderable extent, but irregular outline, consequent upon its adaptation to the form 
and broken surface of its insular site, and consists of a great square keep, sur- 
rounded by extensive outworks, forming an outer and an inner ballium, with a 
small court-yard between the two ; these outworks being flanked by seven towers, 
four of which are circular, and three of larger size, square. Its general character, 
even now, closely assimilates to that which it presented in 1599 (when it was taken 
by the Earl of Essex), as it is pictured in the Pacata Hibernia. Yery recently it has 
been put into thorough repair ; but so judiciously, that its picturesque etfect is in no 
degree injured. At a short distance up the river are the ruins of an ancient 
monastery, built, it is said in the reign of King John, for canons regular of the order 
of St. Augustin. 

The town of Cahir has a remarkably cheerful aspect, and its prosperity is not alone 
upon the surface ; it is derived principally from the extensive flour- mills, actively and 
continually at work, in the immediate neighbourhood, and conducted almost exclusively 
by the " people called Quakers." There are, in several pa)-ts of the south of Ireland, 
towns universally known and distinguished as " Quaker Towns" — they are remark- 
able for neatness and cleanliness, for the industry and sobriety of the inhabitants, 
and an air of comfort and good order in their dwellings — so surely does a good 
example influence all within its reach. The railway bridge which here crosses the 



S^ir — built in 1852, by the engineer, Mr. Willongliby Hemans, is one of tlie most 
graceful works of the kind in the kingdom. 

The Tourist may, soon after leaving Cahir, see the hill of Knockgkaffox, with its 
time-honoured moat ; and also a picturesque stone bridge of great antiquity, upon 
which William the Third is said to have signed the charter of Cashel. The remains 
of an old circular round tower, which in former times protected the pass, continue in 
a tolerable state of preservation. 


The moat of KnockgrafFon is the scene of several of Croker's fairy legends. It is 
indeed a treasury of legendary lore ; we gathered from some of the aged women in the 
neighbourhood a store of traditions of the ancient Irish kings, and of the fairies who 
still continue to guard their hereditary dominions, to which they are expected, at 
some future period, to lay claim, and again govern "in the flesh." The wild fictions 
of Dr. Keating (a native of, and long a resident in, the neighbourhood) are rife among 
the peasantry ; in many instances we found precisely the incidents and events, which 
the doctor dignified by the term " history," preserved by the memories of old and 
young in this remarkable locality. 

Leaving this district, we come in view of the famous Glen of Aherloe — long 
notorious in the sad records of agrarian disturbances for which Tipperary county has 
been " renowned; " but which happily is now but a theme of history : there are at 
present few more tranquil and well-ordered shires in Ireland. 

After Bansha station, the station next reached is that of Tippeeaky. The town, 
which gave name to the county, although veiy ancient, has yielded in rank, popula- 
tion, and importance to that of Clonmel. Tipperary is said to be a coiTuption of the 
Irish Tobar-a-neidth, which signifies "The well of the plains," from its situation at 
the base of the Slieve-na-muck hills — a portion of the Galtee mountains. Other etymo- 



legists derive it from Teobred-ariiin, i. e., ** The fountain of Ara " — an ancient chief, 
whose name, in conjunction with that of another chief (Owny), is now given to one of 
the baronial divisions of the county. Two and a half miles farther, and the Limekick 
Junction is reached : " the Great Southern and Western " is then entered on ; by this 
line the journey is continued to Mallow. The several objects of interest between the 
Limerick Junction and Mallow we have described, en route from Dublin ; and those 
from Mallow to Killarney we shall note presently. We have said that at the Junction 
there is an excellent hotel — and we have given some idea of the exceeding interest 
and beauty of the road between it and Waterford city. 




\i ■-■ 

EOM Mallow to the Lakes, the railway, although forty-one 

miles iu length, has little to interest the traveller. The 

scenery immediately adjacent to Mallow is picturesque : 

although tame by comparison with that he has passed through, 

and especially that upon which he is about to enter ; biit it 

decreases in value as he joroceeds : a circumstance by no means 

disadvantageous, inasmuch as it heightens the effect of Killamey 

when he is there : the lakes being "rare gems in coarse setting." 

Between Mallow and Killarney there are five stations — Lombaeds- 

Towx, KANxrEK, MiLLSTEEET, Shinnagh, and Heaefoed. All the 

mountains between Mallow and Killarney lie to the south of the 

The first, about six miles from Mallow, is Mount Hilaiy, along the 

base of which the line runs, and to the west of which flows the Glen Eiver 

— a very good trout stream. The range of the Boggcragh Mountain next 

comes in sight; and about two miles beyond Millstreet we encounter "the 

Paps," two moiuitains of singular formation. Hence, all the way into 

Killarney, the mountain scenery is very fine. Six miles beyond Millstreet 

'(,' we cross a mountain stream — the Annaskertawn Eiver — the boundary 

' ' between the counties of Cork and Kerry. The Paps are in Kerry. After 

passing this river, we obtain a good view of Mangerton and the Peeks. 

In the rugged-looking glen, among the mountains east of Mangerton, is Lough 

Kittane. As we approach " Killarney," the great feature of its scenery, the perpetual 

variety of its mountain ridges, will be seen and estimated. 

It is, indeed, as we have intimated elsewhere, to their pei-petual changes that these 
lakes are indebted for much of their beauty. Every passing or hovering cloud, every 
gust of wind, every sunbeam and every shade, every shower and every mist, produces 
some new effect ; insomuch as that even while you look upon it, it shall assume a 
character so difl'crent, that you will scarcely believe your eyes have not been uncon- 
sciously removed to another spot. This is especially observable in reference to the 
mountains, seen either near or distant : and even by rapid railway travelling, the 
observer will be struck by this remarkable character of the locality : as he looks to 
the left upon rugged Mangerton, or to the right upon Carran Tuel and the other 
Peeks — which he Avill not fail to do from the carriage as ho nears the Lakes. 

Arrived at the neat and well-managed Terminus,* he will, of course — " as in all 
such cases made and provided" — be greeted and welcomed by " scjuires " from the 
several hotels. The traveller, however, had best judge for himself, having arranged 

* Tlie railway coinimnj' hove made a veiy judicious arn-.nsement, by ■wliicli only one attendant from each of the h itels 
is iiermitted Iu enter the station on the arrival of a train. (Jars and omnibuses from each hotel are in attendance at tl'.e 
gates ; and of course porters to take charge of luggage. 


his intended resting-place beforehand, and thus becoming independent of such disin- 
terested connsellors. 

During "the season," he will have acted wisely who has ordered his apartments 
in due time to be ready on his arrival ; for, although such is the accommodation at 
Killarney that perhaps five hundred persons might find beds of one sort or other, it is 
by no means certain that " the last comer " may have other rest than that afforded by 
"a stretcher," 

Elsewhere we have laid some stress on the necessity of being always prepared for 
rain. Eain in this district is not altogether a misfortune ; for it enhances the beauty 
of the scenery, filling the mountain streams, and adding power to the waterfalls ; but, 
undoubtedly, the Tourist should be warned against trusting entirely to summer 
clothing, even on the hottest summer-day. 

Probably many Tourists will supply themselves with " Tourists' Tickets." It may 
be, therefore, well to repeat, that these are always considered — at the stations, the 
hotels, and, indeed, everywhere — as letters of introduction ; they give assurance of "a 
stranger," who is proverbially, in Ireland, secure of kind and courteous treatment; 
moreover, the ticket is a contract to avoid delays on all routes — the first places upon 
occasions of difficulty of right belonging to their holders. Independent, therefore, of 
the very great saving of expense, all tourists in Ireland should obtain "Tourists' 

Posting is Is. a mile, by post-chaise ; and by car 6r/. a mile for one person, Sd. for 
two persons, and lOd. for three persons. The rule is pretty nearly established 
throughout Ireland ; but in some places 8d. will be required in all cases, whether for 
one person or four ; about Killarney, however, the charge is 6d. a mile for two persons. 
The post-boys expect 3d. a mile for post-chaises, and 2d. a mile for cars. It is 
necessary to bear in mind that the relative proportions of English and Irish miles are 
eleven to fourteen, eleven Irish miles being equal to fourteen English. 

Distances are calculated as English miles on all roads in the south. 

And with these remarks we commend the Tourist to a district perhaps more fertile 
of interest and true enjoyment than any other district of the world, at so small a cost 
of time and money, with so little risk of annoyance. 

TiiL town of KiLLAiiNEY'^' is distant about a mile from 
the north-east shore of the Lowi-:k Lake. It is a poor 
to^vn ; and although surrounded by resident gentry, 
can scarcely he described as prosperous. Some tokens 
ol icccnt improYcmcnt may, however, be discerned : 
the railway terminus exhibits bustle and business ; 
the shops have a gayer look and character than they 
used to have ; those for the sale of arbutus and bog- 
dv specimens are aiming at "decorative excellence: " 
and though there is no bookseller's shop, the Railway 
Station has always an ample supply, under the admirable management of ;^^essrs. Smith 
and their agents, who have done so much to circulate good and pure literature into 
places that were not long ago inaccessible to knowledge conveyed in that form. 

» " Hibernico, Cii.l-airne, or llie Cliurch near the Sloe-trees." (Wikdelk.) The legeml is. that three fi.-ter saints 
establislied iheiiiselves in this neighbourhooJ, and built chui-ches here— AUA, whence KUl-aha ; Agi, whence Kill-agi ; 
and Aihne, whence Kill-airne. 


The Eoman Catholic Catliedral, now finished, was designed by the eminent architect, 
Pugin, who personally superintended its erection. It is a fine building, constructed 
of course after the most approved models, and occupies a commanding site, being 
seen from all parts of the adjacent country, A structure, however, even more 
elevated in position, is the Lunatic Asylum — a gigantic mass, made, apparently, to 
" accommodate " half the county. The Workhouse is also a good and " sightly" 
building : large — happily, now-a-days, too large. The Church is a poor edifice, 
that has been long gradually, and is now rapidly, falling to decay ; exertions arc 
making to supply its place by a structure that shall, at all events, be no blot on 
the picturesque of the locality — which assuredly the present Church of the Protestants 
is ; an evil that is greatly enhanced by the comparison that cannot fail to be instituted 
between it and its stately neighbour of the other faith. ■'^' 

The population of Killarney is about 7,000 ; and the number of houses may be about 
1,000. The proprietor of the town and a large portion of the adjoining district is the 
Earl of Kenmare, a Eoman Catholic peer,! whose family first entered Ireland a.d. 
1555, and whose ancestor, Sir Valentine Browne, received, as an English " under- 
taker," J a grant of 6,560 acres of the estates forfeited in the Desmond rebellion, 
temp. Elizabeth. The property so acquired he increased by purchase, and it was 
subsequently augmented by intermarriages with the princely families of the Eitz- 
geralds, Mac Carthys, and O'Sullivans. 

When the Down survey was completed, about the year 1656, there was no such 
town as Killarney in existence. Sir William Petty then surveyed the parish of 
Killamey ; but neither in his general map, nor in his barony maps, is there any 
notice of a town or village of the name.- When Thomas, the fourth Lord Kenmare, 
came of age in 1747, the town consisted of only his lordship's house, and not more 
than three or four slated houses and 100 thatched cabins, and the whole population 
could not have exceeded 500. Before the revolution Lord Kenmare's family resided 
at Eoss, in the castle, and in a contiguous fortified house, and did not reside at 
Killarney till 1721. Smith, in 1756, says, "A new street with a large commodious 

* The plan of the proposed Clinrcli has been lithogxaphecl ; it will be an elegant as well as a commodious edifice ; 
and be a credit in lieu of a reproach to the neighbourhood. A printed circular requests assistance from " visitors and 
tourists ; " we hope it may be, as it certainl}' ought to be, liberally and considerately rendered, by all •' strangers "—who 
will give thought to the good they may do while sojourning in this channing locality, " where the scenery around so 
strikingly displays the beauty of God's works!" They are fairly and rightly reminded that while the present church is 
" unsafe and incapable of repair," a larger building for their accommodation is required than would be necessary for the 
resident congi'egation : and while an appeal is made to their sense of justice, it will be obvious there are other— and very 
strong — reasons why they should contribute to this high, holy, and most important work. [This passage was WTitten some 
four or five years ago ; we regi-et to say that the buUding is not yet commenced — principally, however, we believe, in 
conseijuence of the ditficulty of obtaining a satisfactory site.] 

t It is only justice to the noble Earl, liowever, to state that he is not responsible for the dilapidated condition of Killamey, 
over which lie has in reality very little influence, chiefly arising out of the old wretched system of granting long leases 
for heavy fines. His lordship and his estimable lady have ever been much respected in their town ; they do not, however, 
now reside there ; but are well represented by theu- eldest son, Viscount Castlerosse and his lady, who are doing much to 
improve the property and the locality also. 

t The estates confiscated in the Desmond KebeUion contained nearly 600,000 acres, in the counties of Cork, Limerick, 
KeiTy, and Waterford; more than one half were restored to the " pardoned traitors ; " the remainder was divided into 
seigniories of 12,000, 8,000, 6,000, and 4,000 acres. The English undertaker was to have an estate in fee-farm, yielding 
for each seigniory of 12,000 aci-es, for the first three years, £33 6s. Sd. sterling, and after that period double the amount. 
The undertaker was to have for his own demesne 2,100 acres ; for six farmers, 400 acres each ; six freeholders, 100 acres 
each ; and the residue was to be divided info smaller tenures, on which thirty-six families at least were to be established. 
Tlie lesser seigniories were to be laid out and peopled in the same manner, in proportion to their extent. Each under- 
taker was to peojile his seigniory in seven years ; he was to have licence to export all commodities duty free to England 
for five years — the planters were to be Knglish, and no English planter was permitted to convey to any mere Jris'i. 
Each undertaker was bound to furnish tlie State with three horsemen and .six footmen armed — the lesser seigniories 
in the same proportion; and each copyholder was to find one footman armed; but they were not compelled to serve 
out of Munster for seven years, and then to be paid by the crown. 



inn are designed to be built here ; for the curiosities of the neighbouring lake have 
of late drawn great numbers of curious travellers to visit it." The town lies in a 
valley ; from which the lake is hidden by the well- wooded demesne of Lord Kenmare. 
The workhouse at Killarney should be inspected by every \dsitor : it is at once a 
most painful and a most gratifying sight. The whole of the arrangements seem to 
be as near perfection as they can be : the wards, the dormitories especially, are clean 
and neat and well provided ; the ventilation is admirable, the clothing good, the food 
wholesome and abundant, and a sufficiency of employment is found in grinding flour, 
and in manufacturing Ihe various articles used in the house. Our only marvel is 
that any of the destitute poor remain out of it to endure the want and misery of their 
own wretched hovels. 


Entering Killarney, the first question of the Tourist will naturally concern the 
hotel at which he is to be located.--' The first in rank is untiuestionably The R-ULAVAr 
Hotel, close to the station, from which there is a covered way, lined with shrubs and 

» Mr. Weill stafes that so late as the j-ear 1S06, neitlier of the inns of Killarney " afforded a coach-hous ■." He adds 
— %\Titing in 1812 — " it is mmli to be refiretted tliat there is no place of public accommodation, not even a single honse, 
on Ihe confines of the lake, where apartments can be procured; for, independent of the inconvenience of going and 
reluming, some disgust is liable to be felt at the sudden transition from ihe rural and seiiuestered sceneiy of llie lake lo Ihe 
huiTj- and busile of a noisy town, which is always crowded with idle peojile, and among whom beggars, as in every place 
of public resort in Ireland', bear a very conspicuous proportion." Mr. Welti's '- lUnstraiionsof the Scenery of Kilhirncy," 
were published in 1812. It was the first work that drew attention to the Lakes and- allowhig for the numerous changes 
induced by time — it may even now be received as authority upon matters connected with the subject. Tlie book is 
valuable and inleresting— the production of a highly accomplished mind. Jlr. Weld was a close observer, a ripe schohir, 
and a iraveller who had learned from travel not to decry, but to apireciate the beauties of his native land. Honour to his 
memory ! 


flowers, to the entrance door. It is a building of mnch architectural elegance ; a 
reasonably good idea of which may be formed from the appended woodcut. It was 
built by the South- Western Railway Company, expressly for the accommodation of 
tourists, and contains all modern improvements : a very spacious coffee-room (upwards 
of seventy feet long) ; a public drawing-room ; hot and cold baths, of large size ; and all 
the appliances that can minister to comfort, including " the kitchen." It may be 
well to observe that ladies freely use both the coffee-room and the public drawing- 
room ; but there are many private sitting rooms, and upwards of one hundred 
bedrooms. The manager is Mr. Goodman, who personally attends to every pai't 
of his huge establishment, directing the several servants, from the waiter to the 
guide, and being always present at the liberal Table d'Hote. It is indeed impossible 
to overpraise the management of this hotel. '^'' "VVe speak less from our own experience 
than from the reports of all with whom we have conversed on the subject. Its 
drawback is that it does not command views of the lake, that is to say, from the 
grounds : for from any of the windows of the second floor, there are fine and exten- 
sive views of the waters and the mountains. Some will consider the absence of 
perpetual views a disadvantage, others will hold an opposite opinion ; for from morning 
till after dusk, tourists will have seen so much of the beauties of the district that perhaps 
repose will be a relief. The grounds around the hotel are laid out with much taste ; 
the walks are among choice ferns and flowers ; fountains are judiciously placed ; 
garden seats are scattered here and there ; and all available means have been adopted 
that can supply enjoyment when the day's tour has been done. The hotel is opposite 
the entrance to the beautiful grounds of Lord Kenmare. 

Much that we have said in praise of this hotel will apply with equal force to the 
EoTAX ViCTOEiA Lake Hotel, the proprietor and manager of which is Mr. O'Leary. 
Here are also excellent public rooms and " private apartments," with all the other 
advantages that make a " home" of an " inn." It is about two miles from the town, on 
the road to the Gap of Dunloe, and the site it occupies is peculiarly auspicious. It stands 
on the northern bank of the Lower Lake. Immediately fronting the windows are the 
Toomies, Purple Mountain, and beautiful Glena ; while midway, in a direct line, is 
fair Inisfallen. To the right are seen the gigantic Eeeks — with the entrance to 
Dunloe Gap ; to the left is rugged and lofty Mangerton ; behind is the hill, topped by 
the ruins of Aghadoe, and fringed by the beautiful woods of Lord Headley's demesne ; 
so that, look where we will over the noble expanse of water, or towards the land, 
some object of interest meets our view. AVe prefer to a view of the Hotel an engrav- 
ing of the scenery presented from the windows of either of the front rooms. 

" TuE Lake Hotel" was formerly a private residence, famous for its beauty of 
situation, the fine growth of trees, and the little island that forms part of the 
demesne, on which stand the picturesque remains of an ancient castle — Castle Lougli. 
The whole of this demesne, with all its advantages, now forms a part of the hotel 
grounds. The hotel is surroimded by the most beautiful of the scenery of Killarncy : 
it is bounded on the southern side by Mucross, on the north by the woods of Calier- 

* "We direct special attention to the " airing room " which effectually prevents (he possibility of clanger from 
(lamp sheets or beds ; every article of linen is kept in this heated chamber until ordered for use. AVe inspected wiih 
nuich pleasure the posting establishment, superintended by Mr. John Donovan, and attached to the Railway Hotel. 
There are rarely less than forty horses in the stables ; and these horses arc of the best. There is no better managed 
concern than tliis of Mr. Donovan in any part of Ireland. 



nano, and, in front, views are commanded (f several of tho islands — Avith Glena Bay. 
Yiews are hence also obtained of Mangerton, Tore Waterfall, and Derricunnihy Cas- 
cade, and the summits of the several mountains which look down upon the lakes. 


At Cloghreen, close to Mucross Abbey, there are two good hotels ; they do not 
vie with the three we have named, but they are comfortable and somewhat extensive, 
and the charges are less than those of their rivals. "The Muckoss Hotel" is close 
to the Abbey, and near to it is O'Sullivax's Hotel. They are both near the foot 
of Mangerton, within half a mile of the Tore Waterfall — the most beautiful of the 
Killarney Falls — and on the direct route to the Upper Lake, and the "new line " to 
Kenmare. Their situation therefore is highly advantageous, being equally ''con- 
venient" to the three lakes; but "the view" is excluded by the tall trees of Mr. 
Herbert's demesne. 

In the town there are two hotels ; they will be occupied when the other hotels 
are full. These are "The Kenmake Arms" and "The Inisfalleit." In the town 
also there are several lodging-houses, some of which are boarding-houses. 

Each of the hotels issue cards of the charges : rooms, dinners, &c. ; boats, 
carriages, ponies, and guides ; noting, indeed, every item, so that the Tourist may 
calculate his expenses to a shilling. 

But the Tourist, no matter where he sojourns, will be sure to find much to content 
and little to displease. The purpose is, and the continual study is, to give enjoy- 
ment — to "earn a good name;" and managers, waiters, "boys about the place," 
drivers, boatmen, and guides, are zealous in ministering to the comforts of 


Guides are essentials at Killarney ; and, indeed, in all places en route ; they add 
mucli to the traveller's information and enjoyment. The payment they expect is 
little, and the comfort they give great. Let no Tourist think he can do " well enough" 
without a guide. We have more to say on this subject, and our remarks will be found 
at the end of this chapter. 

Each hotel has its boat's crew and its "commodore." The Eailway Hotel has a crew 
of twenty-four, all smart and intelligent young men, dressed alike in blue and white. 
Tlieir commodore is Jeremiah Clifford, a somewhat more aged denizen of the locality ; 
a most pleasant companion, full of knowledge, who can tell a legend with admirable 
effect, and dance an Irish jig as vigorously as the best youth in Keny. The commo- 
dore at the Victoria is Miles MacSweeny, to whose skill as an angler we have borne 
testimony. There are several excellent aids to anglers also at the Eailway Hotel — 
Callaghan, Macarthy, Eobert Eoberts, Tom Murphy, and especially Jerry Clifford. 
They will supply all requisite tackle and flies to suit the season ; such flies as laugh to 
scorn the gaily fill'd "book" the Tourist frequently takes with him — to find useless. 

,Much of the pleasure and information of the visitor will be derived from the 
driver of the car in which he is seated. The two with whom we have had most 
intercourse, during our eight visits to the lakes, Jerry Sullivan and Michael Sullivan, 
are now both at the Ea;ilway Hotel. .Frequent references are made to them in the 
course of this book. The Tourist will be fortunate who falls into the hands of either. 
They know every inch of the locality : Glengariff, Kenmare, Dingle, Valentia, all 
round the coast, and every spot about the lakes. They are in all ways to be depended 
upon — obliging, careful, and intelligent. No doubt there are others as good ; but it 
so happens that one of the brothers has always been with us when we have visited 
Killarney, and we have reason to know that if there be drivers as good, there are 
none better, in the district — such are Pat McCarthy and James Shee. 

It will be seen, therefore, that by hotels and lodging-houses there is ample accom- 
modation for an " influx " of visitors, such as any season may bring; — there will be 
no great difficulty in giving " sleeping-rooms " to five hundi-ed persons, if so many 
should be in Killarney at one time. 

Let us now imagine the Tourist taking " his ease at his inn," called upon to deter- 
mine how his time may be most pleasantly and most profitably expended. "We shall 
endeavour to guide him ; first supplying him with some information respecting the 
wonderful and beautiful district in which he is for a time located. 

The Lakes of Killarney are three in number ; the Lowee Lake, the IJprEE, Lake, 
and the Middle, or Toec Lake. In reality, however, the three must be considered 
as one ; for they are divided only by narrow channels, the passage between the lower 
and middle lakes being, indeed, only of a bridge's breadth. ••■' They are situated in 
the centre of a range of lofty mountains, among which are Carran Tuel and Mangerton, 

* " The Lake consists of three distinct bodies of water ; of these, the first, which is called the Upper Lake, lies 
embosomed amidst the mountains ; the others, situated at the exterior base of the chain, are bounded at one side alone 
by mountains ; and in the opposite direction lliey open to a cultivated country, whose surface is diversified by innu- 
merable hills. The last two divisions are nearly upon the same levi-l, ami lie contiguous to each otliei', being separated 
merely by a narrow peninsula (MuCROSS) and some small islands (Uru'keen and DiKls), between which there are 
cliannels passable for boats: but the Upper Lake stands three miles distant, at the head of a navigable river, which flows 
through a romantic valley or defile (Tun LoxQ Range), l^ear the temiination of its course Uiis river divides into two 
branc'lies, one of which flows peaceably into the Bay of Glena, on the Great or Lower Lake ; the other, forcing its 
way through a rocky channel, issues with considerable impetuosity into the Middle Lake, under the woods of l)inis 
Island." (Weld.) This river separates after passing the " Old Weir Bridge.'' 



the former the highest in Ireland.* The mountains, that run directly from the water, 
are dotted with evergreen tree-shrubs and magnificently grown forest trees, reaching 
from the base almost to the summit. This, indeed, forms one of the leading pecu- 
liarities of Killarney.f 

The Tourist, on approaching the Lakes, is at once struck by the singularity and 
the variety of the foliage in the woods that clothe the hills by which on all sides they 
are surrounded. The effect produced is novel, striking, and beautiful ; and is caused 
chiefly by the abundant mixture of the tree 
slirub Arhitus Unedo\ with the forest trees. 
The Akbutus grows in nearly all parts of Ire- 
land ; but nowhere is it found of so large a size, 
or in such rich luxuriance, as at Killarney, ex- 
cepting, perhaps, at Glengariff. The extreme ^^B.'l&i )■ 
western position, the mild and humid atmosphere 
(for, in Ireland, there is fact as well as fancy in 
the poet's image — 

"Til}' suns with doubtful gleam 
Weep while they rise "j, 

and the rarity of frosts, contribute to its propa- 
gation, and nurture it to an enormous growth, 
far siirpassing that which it attains in any part 
of Great Britain ; although, even at Killarney, it 
is never of so great a size as it is found clothing 
the sides of Mount Athos. In Dinis Island 
there was a tree seven feet in circumference, and 
its lieight in proportion, § being equal to that of 
an ash-tree of the same girth which grew near 
it. There are several others nearly as large. 
Alone, its character is not picturesque: the 
branches are bare, long, gnarled, and crooked; 
presenting in its wild state a remarkable contrast to its trim, formal, and bush-like 
figure in our cultivated gardens. Mingled with other trees, however, it is exceedingly 
beautiful ; its bright green leaves happily mixing with the light or dark drapery of 


* Heights of the principal iiKniiitiuns suiToundiiig the Lakes : — 

Canan Tuel ;!,41t feet 

Mangorton 2,7-")<i 

Tore Mountain I,7ii4 

Eagle's Nest 1,103 

Purple Mountain 2,7;i9 

Toomies 2,-500 

The only mountains that actually rise from the Lake are Tore, Glena, and Toomies, — the Piirijle Mountain ascends 
behind tlie latter. Between Toomies and the water's edge, there is a tract of fertile ground under cultivation. 

t The autumn months arc generally recommended for visiting Killarney. cliiefly because the lints of foliage are then 
more varied ; but to our minds this attraction ill compensates for the shortness of the days. We have visited the Lakes 
at three different seasons — in April, in June, and in September. The Lakes may be seen to great advantage so early as 
May or .lune ; when, according to a common saying, Inisfallen is covered with snow — i. e. the hawthorns ai'e in full 
bloom. This tree blooms most luxuriantly at Killarney, and glows to an amazing size. In the demesne of Lord Kenmare 
there is one tree of such prodigious growl h, that we imagine four hundred men might stand under its branches. 

X Pliny says it is called " Unedo," because, having ealen one, yon will never desire to eat another. It is said, however, 
that an agreeable wine is made from the berrj' in the south of Europe. 

§ Tliis arbutus-tree was not long ago blown down ; its trunk, however, remains to show its size. 



its neighbours — the elm and the ash, or the holly and the yew, with which it is almost 
always intcnnixcd. It strikes its roots apparently into the very rocks — thus filling 
up spaces that would otherwise be barren spots in the scenery. Its beautiful berries, 
when arrived at maturity, are no doubt conveyed by the birds, who feed upon them, 
to the heights of inaccessible mountains, where they readily vegetate in situations 
nearly destitute of soil.* Its most remarkable peculiarity is, that the flower (not 
unlike the lily of the valley) and the fruit — ripe and unripe — are found at the same 
time, together, on the same tree. The berry has an insipid though not an unpleasant . 
taste, is nearly round, and resembles in colour the wood-strawberry ; whence its com- 
mon name — the Strawberry-tree. It appears to the greatest advantage in October, 
when it is covered with a profusion of flowers in drooping clusters, and scarlet berries 
of the last year : and when its gay green is strongly contrasted with the brown and 
yellow tints which autumn has given to its neighbours. It is said that, although now 
found universally in Ireland, and more especially in the counties of Cork and Kerry, 
it is not a jiative of the soil, but was introduced into the countiy by Spanish monks.f 

Of the Arbutus wood a variety of toys are made at Killarney, for which there is 
considerable sale to visitors anxious to retain some palpable reminiscence of the beau- 
tiful place. The Tourist will not have passed many minutes at his inn before a fair 
messenger from one of the "arbutus factories" makes her appearance, and with 
winning looks and wiling words endeavours to effect sales from the full basket she 
canies with her. The Arbutus wood — and, very surely, the wood of other trees, such 
as the yew, the holly, and, above all, the bog-oak — has been converted by the crafts- 
man into a vast variety of items — card- cases, needle boxes, paper-cutters, silk- winders, 
and so forth ; and sometimes into objects of magnitude — such as tables, writing-desks, 
and work-boxes. They are manufactured with considerable skill and neatness, and 
are very pretty specimens of the various woods produced in the neighboui'hood — 
which it would be a serious reproach to any Toui-ist to leave without having procured 
a few of these indubitable proofs that he has been where Nature has made a garden 
of her own for her own self. There are, in the town, four or five manufacturers of 
these articles, and visitors are invited to inspect the workshops, and see the artisans 
at work. 

Of course there are plenty of photographs of the Lake scenery to be obtained in 
Dublin. But visitors will do well to postpone purchases until they are at 
Killarney, where they will find a skilful and intelligent artist — Mr. Hudson — who 
has a large stock of views, taken by himself, which exhibit nearly all the places of 
interest and beauty in the locality. 

The charm of Killarney lakes, however, does not consist in the varied graces of 
foliage, the grandeur of encompassing mountains, the number of green or rocky 

* A worthy gentleman with whom we conversed, in reference to this peculiarity, committed a genuine bull : " If you 
go to Killarney, 'tis there you'll see Nature — the trees cirowinr/ out of the solid rock.'' 

t On this ix)iut, however, botanists are much divided in opinion. We have had opportunities of consulting two of the 
most eminent in Ireland. By one we are told, " There is not the least doubt of its being truly indigenous; for it is 
found growing on the wild declivities of Glengariff, and bordering many of the little mountain loughs in the remote parts 
of Kerry, which still remain in a state of almost primitive nature." By the oilier we are informed, " Touching the Arbutus, 
although now growing spontaneously around Killarney, particularly on limestone, and what is termed red talcose slate, 
yet I am inclined to think it not strictly a native, but introduced from Spain by the monks. Inisfallen in the sixth century 
was a place of great wealth ; numerous and valuable presents were constantly contributed to it ; and the stranger monks 
procured from their own countries whatever would prove useful, either medicinally, culinary, or ornamental. Con- 
sequently, some of our rarest plants are found in the vicinity of these religious buildings." 


islands, the singailarly fantastic character of the island-rocks, the delicate elegance of 
the shores, the perpetual occurrence of hays ; but in the wonderful variety produced 
by the combination of their attractions, which, together, give to the scenery a 
character inconceivably fascinating — such as the pen and pencil are utterly incom- 
petent to describe.* The shadows from the mountains, perpetually changing, pro- 
duce a variety of which there can be no adequate conception ; insomuch that the 
very same spot shall present a different aspect twenty times within a day, Assuredlj^, 
they far surpass in natural beauty aught that nature has supplied elsewhere in Great 
Britain; for, with scarcely an exception, the devoted worshippers of Loch Katrine, 
and the fervid admirers of the northern English lakes, have yielded the palm to those 
of Killarney ; some, however, having qualitied the praise they bestow upon "the 
pride of Ireland," by admitting only that "the three lakes considered as one — which 
they may naturally be, lying so close to each other — are, together, more important 
than any one of the lakes of Cumberland and Westmoreland."! A glance at the map 
will show, as we have intimated, that the three are separated but by very narrow 
channels ; and that two of them have scarcely any perceptible division. They have, 
nevertheless, very distinctive characteristics : the Lower Lake is studded with islands, 
nearly all being richly clothed with evergreens ; the Tipper Lake is remarkable for its 
wild magnificence, the mountains completely enclosing it ; and the Middle Lake is 
conspicuous for a happy mingling of both — not inferior to the one in grace and 
beauty, or to the other in majestic grandeur. 

The romantic beauties of the Killarney lakes were celebrated ages ago ; in a very 
ancient poem they are classed as " the tenth wonder" of Ireland. The Irish name 
is Loch Lcne — "the Lake of Learning," according to some authorities — a name by 
which it is still recognised among the peasantry, and which it is presumed to have 
derived from the number of "bookish monks," by whom its monasteries of Inisfallen, 
Mucross, and Aghadoe were at one time crowded. :j; The lakes are formed and 
supplied by numerous minor lakes that exist in the surrounding mountains, and may 
be described as an immense reservoir for the several rivers that also flow into them, 
having received on their way the waters of innumerable tributary streams. The ouly 
outlet for the waters thus collected is the narrow and rapid river Laune — a channel 
along which they proceed to the Atlantic through the beautiful bay of Dingle. The 
origin of these lakes — covering an extensive valley — is, therefore, self-evident ; but 
fiction has assigned to them one of a far less obvious natiu'e ; for, as will be readily 

* " The whole scene exquisite. Loveliness is the word that suits it best. The grand is less grand Ihan what may ho 
found among the Alps, but the softness, the luxuriance, the variety of colouring, the little gardens tliat evorj- small rock 
exhibits, the romantic disposition of the islands, and graceful sweep of the shores — all this is unequalled anywhere 
else." — Moore, Dkiry. 

t Such is the admission of iMr. Wordsworth in a letter w^e had the honour to receive from him on the subject ; 
and he adds, "I have more than once expressed an opinion that the county of Kerry, so nobly indented with bays 
of tlic Atlantic Ocean, and possessing a climate so favourable for vegetation, along with its muuntains and inland 
waters, might without injustice be pronounced in point of sceneiy, the tinest portion of the British Islands." Sir David 
W'ilkie, writing in 18^5, the year of his visit, refers to " tlie three lakes, that for beauty and grandeur I have never seen 
surpassed ; " and we have the authority of Miss Edgeworth for saying (hat Sir \\'alter i'eott " considered the Upi^er Lake 
the grandest sight he had ever seen — except " Loch Lomond." Spillane, senior (the bugler), wlio was in the boat with the 
memorable party, told us that Sir Walter Scott appealed ill; scarcely made a remark the whole day; and expressed 
his admiration only once — when the boat was close to Dinis Island, where the waters of the thi-ee lakes meet ; then he 
exclaimed, " Ah, this is beautiful ! " 

X Concerning the signification of the word " Lene," etymologists are far from agreeing. By many it is conjectured 
to refer to the ancient learned repute of the religious house at Inisfallen ; but Sir William Hetliam thinks the word 
"Lean " signifies a swampy plain, and that the lake was so called as being on the borders of a swamp, which a large 
portion of the north shore undoubtedly is.— Windele. 


supposed, the place is full of wild legends and marvellous traditions, harmonising 
with the poetical character of the locality. 

The legends which account for the existence of the lakes vary in some respects ; 
but all have one common source — the neglecting to close the entrance to an enchanted 
fountain, which caused an inundation, and covered in a single night, fair and fertile 
fields, and houses, and palaces with water. One of them attributes the misfortune to 
the daring impiety of an O'Donoghue, who, full of scepticism and wine, scorned the 
tradition which doomed to destruction the person who should displace the stone over 
the well-head, and resolved to expose its falsity by removing it to his castle : his 
subjects, with whom his word was law, awaited the result in fear and trembling — all 
but his favourite jester, who fled to the summit of a neighbouring mountain. When 
the morning sun broke, he looked down into the valley, and saw nothing but a broad 
sheet of water. Another legend throws the responsibility of the awful event on a 
fair young peasant girl, who was wont to meet her lover — a stranger ignorant of the 
mystic spell — by the fountain-side : one night they were lulled to sleep by the music 
of its flow : at daybreak the girl awoke screaming " The well ! the well ! " It was too 
late ; the water was rushing forth, and overtook them as they ran. They were 
drowned, and involved in their fate the inhabitants of the whole district. 

The legends all agree, however, that the men and women who then peopled the 
lovely valley did not perish, but still exist beneath the lake ; where the O'Donoghue 
continues to lord it over his people, living in his gorgeous palace, surrounded by 
faithful friends and devoted followers, and enjoying the delights of feasting, dancing, 
and music, as fully as he did upon dry land. Many a time and oft as by the backs 
of the lake 

" The fisherman strays 
Wlien the clear cold eve's declining, 
He sees the round towers of other daj's 
In the wave beneath him shinuig." 

The lakes are understood to be thirty miles in circumference ; the distance between 
the two extreme points — the entrance to the river Laune and the extreme end of 
the Upper Lake — being about eleven miles (including the "Long Range," about 
three miles), the greatest width being about two miles and a half.'^' In the Upper 
Lake there are several islands, but none of large size : in Tore Lake there are only 
two, and they are small ; while the Lower Lake contains, of islands and island-rocks, 
upwards of thirty. 

The principal river which supplies the lakes — The Plesk — rises in the mountain, 
and enters the Lower Lake at Cahirnane : contributions to its waters are made also 
by the Deenagh and several tributary mountain streams ; the principal of which are 
those from the Devil's Punch-bowl in Mangerton, forming in its progress the Tore 
Waterfall; that from the summit of Glena, which forms O'Sullivan's Cascade; and 

* The exact length and breadth of the three lakes are as follows : — 

Length of Lower Lake 5g miles English. 

Greatest Breadth . . . . 2k „ „ 

Length of Tore Lake . . ■'■I " " 

Greatest Breadlh ....*,, ., 

Length of Upper Lake 2| „ „ 

Greatest Breadth . . . . | „ „ 

Tills statement, altliough it differs much from former estimates, and very largely from the popular notion, may be 
relied upon as accurate. 


i i 

that from the mountain, which forms the Cascade of Derriciinnihy. The Flesk, 
as it enters the Lower Lake, flows under a picturesque old bridge, covered with ivy. 



A huge supply to the Lakes is also contributed by the river Garameen, that runs 
through the Black Valley, and enters at the extreme end of the Upper Lake. 

These points we merely glance at in commencing our tour ; but each and all of 
them, being leading objects of interest and attraction, we shall be called upon more 
minutely to describe, when under the "heads" to which they properly belong. 

Let us, then, arrange the mode in wliich the Tourist can best divide his time, so 
as to see all he ought to sec, and that to the best advantage. We shall first express 
a hope that his visit to Killarney will not be a hurried one, — to see, merely that he 
may "say he has seen," the greatest of the many natural beauties of Ireland. He 
may, indeed, have a vague notion that it is a very wonderful and a very beautiful 
place, by rushing through Dunloc Gap, and rowing from point to point of the Lakes, 
Upper and Lower ; and there are tourists in abundance who liave given themselves no 
longer time to do the subject justice.* But if he desii'e to receive enjoyment incon- 

* Uiihaiiiiily, Sir Walter Scott was one of tliese. His stay in Killarnej' was not extended beyond a day, consequently 
he could have liad no conception of the vast store of grandeur and beauty wliidi a sojourn of a week might have opened 
to him. 'I he lakes, theretoie. have profited very little by his rapid row over their surface. There is a rumour tliat Sir 
AValler left Killuniey suddenly, in consequence of the uncourteous refusal of a gentleman in the neighbourhood to 
entertain him with a "stag hunt'" — on the ground of pohtical difference.-*. Mr. Lockhart, iudeed. in his ".Memoii-s 
of .Scott." by some singular mistake, gives currency to the oidnion — so discreditable to Irish courtes}-, and so opposed to 
the almost constitutional bias of Irish geutlemen. We felt convincedthat so humiliating a circumstance never occurred, 
and took some pains to be enabled to set the matter right. The rumour, although very general, is without the slightest 
foundation. Miss Kdgewortli, who accompanied Sir Walter to KilUuuey, writes us, that " their party did not visit 


ceivably fresh aucl powerful, and to estimate really and truly the vast beauty and 
mighty magnificence of the locality, his stay must be prolonged to at least a week. 
A week will enable him to examine the whole scene fully and justly ; but it is neces- 
sary to add, that time much more prolonged may be profitably expended ; that every 
day will exhibit some new feature ; and it is certain that the more the Lakes are 
examined, the more they will gratify and the more they will astonish. 

The plan we propose is to devote pive days to the lakes ; and we shall draw out 
what we conceive to be the best order of proceeding — premising, however, that much 
may be seen in 0]srE day, a good deal in two days, nearly every prime object of interest 
in THREE days, the whole in fotje days ; and the whole, with the addition of several 
striking matters in the neighbourhood, in five days. 

This five days' tour, then, we shall take the visitor, appending such hints as may 
be requisite for the benefit of those who can dedicate to the purpose only days one, 
two, three, or four. ^' 

TiKST Day. — The Kenmaee Road ; Lofgh-Ltjis-ca-nagh ; TJppee Lake ; 

DERErcTJNNiHY Wateefall ; ToKC Wateefall ; Demesne of 

Mtjceoss ; DiNis Island ; Mtjceoss Abbey. 
Second Day. — The Ascent of Caeean Ttjel, oe Mangeeton. 
Thied Day. — Aghadoe; Gap of Dunloe; Beandon's Cottage; the TJppee Lake; 

Long Range ; Eagle's Nest ; Weie Beid^e ; Toec Lake ; 

Lowee Lake ; Glena. 
roTJETH Day. — The Islands and the Shoees of the Lowee Lake. 
Fifth Day. — Objects of Minoe Ijipoetance in the Vicinity of the Lakes ; 

VAEioTJS Views, etc. etc. 

Our plan is to visit and examine the beautiful and interesting objects around the 
lakes ; to point out those which ought to be seen, and to indicate those that may be 
seen if time will sanction a proper scrutiny. 

We shall, then, endeavour to induce the Tourist to visit the singularly wild and 
beautiful sea-coast ; through either of the magnificent harbours of Bantry, Kenmare, 
Dingle, or Tralee, and so round to the Shannon — for we may hope that visitors to 
Killarney will be induced to make there, or in the neighbourhood, a longer stay than 
will barely suffice to see the "Lakes: " as we shall show, it will be impossible to 
examine scenery more lovely or more sublime than that which a day will bring 
within their reach while in this enchanting district. ' 

A primary and a very necessary step, however, as we have intimated, for those 
who desii'c to see the lakes in perfection, and to comprehend their beauties thoroughly, 

Killarney expoctinf; a stag hunt ; on the contraiy, before tliey arrived there, they heard on their progress that the master 
of the hounds had just died. And,"' she adds, " before any one knew we had arrived, we were gone ; for Sir Walter was 
so tied to linie, that we could not remain another day." Miss Edgeworth's memory of the circumstance is borne out by 
that of her sister, who writes us, " I remember being told, as we drove into Killarney, that we should have no stag hunt, 
as the master of the hounds had died that morning.'' We hope this slander against Irish hospitality will not again occur. 
* It will be obvious, however, that to laj' down a reute that will answer in all cases, is quite out of the question ; it 
must be so continually influenced by circumstances, especially by the state of the weather. Our own plan satisfies us 
better than any other, — and we obtained several from competent guides. When the Tourist ha.s determined the length 
of time he will give to pleasure, he will do well to consult the landlord of the hotel, and arrange with the guide how that 
time may be best turned to account. It is oljvious that much may be done from sunrise to twilight of a summer day. 
And if the weather seems unsettled, it will be wise to make our plan for the third day the airangement for the tirst day ; 
as the whole of the objects on such visits must be seen at any rate. 


will be the selection of a gotde ; — up Mangerton or Carran Tucl, and through Dunloe 
Gap, indeed, his aid is absolutely essential ; for without it, the Tourist would not only 
be in danger of losing his way, but would be subjected to many annoyances from 
which the forethought of a guide will relieve him. Upon this subject we ask awhile 
the patience of our readers. 

Irish guides are the most amusing fellows in the world ; always ready to do any- 
thing, explain any matter, go anywhere ; for if the Tourist proposes a trip to the 
moon, the gi;ide Avill undertake to lead the way — " Bedad he will, wid all de pleasure 
in life." They are invariably heart-anxious to please; sparing no personal exertion; 
enduring willingly the extreme of fatigue ; carrying as much luggage a pack-horse ; 
familiar, but not intrusive ; never out of temper ; never wearied of either walking 
or talking ; and generally full of humour. They enliven the dreariest road by their 
wit, and are, of course, rich in old stories; some they hear, others they coin, and, 
occasionally, make a strange hodge-podge of history — working a volume of wonders 
out of a solitary fact.*' 

But our especial business, now, is with the Killarney guides, and truly theii- name 
is "Legion;" every child, boy or girl, from the time it is able to crawl over the 
door-step, seems to have a strong natural instinct to become a guide. 

Our pleasantest memories of Killarney are associated with those of a guide — Sir 
Eichard Courtenayf — who now sleeps in the mid-aisle of Mucross. His picture, 
although that of a hero gone by, may be worth retaining, for it is a picture of a class 
in the old times ; his successors being far less " Irish," and much more refined. Note 
his peculiar hat — not quite a " caubeen," although the mountain blasts have materially 
changed its shape since it was "a bran-new baaver ;" his small keen grey eyes ; his loose 
good-natured mouth, that pours forth in abundance courteous, if not courtly phrases, 
and pronounces scraps of French with the true pronunciation of an actual native — of 
Kerry; for Sir Richard, having mixed in good society, " parley- voos " as well as 
bows with the grace of a travelled gentleman. His coat was certainly not made by a 
Stulz, nor his brogue by a Hoby ; but the frieze suits well with his healthy and 
sunburnt countenance, and the shoes are a fitting match for limbs that have borne him 
a thousand times up the steep and high mountain of Mangerton. 

Alas ! the Tourist who has experienced his courtesy will miss him now from his 

* It is not to be questioned that they sometimes "malte" as well as "tell." Once at Glendalough, when George 
Win'ler was relalinp to us " a laagend,'' we said, " Now, AVinder, tell us trulj', is that a veritable legend ? " " Well," he 
reiilii'd, "I'll teU truth to your honors: it is not, for ye see I make as many laagends over night as will do for the quality 
next day." 

t Hy"what means he obtained his dignity we could never leani ; but the knight had once the honour of conducting 
a 'V'iciToy to the top of Mangerton, where the peer and the peasant being botli literally "in the clouds," the latter, at 
least, descoiided to mid-earth a much more important personage than he was when he commenced the ascent— and ever 
afterwards with plain Richard Cuurtenay it was 

" Good den, Sir Richaid." 

A merchant of -Cork invited him to dinner, told his wife a gentleman was to dine with him— Sir Eichard Courtenay, 
of Killarney. The lady got out her best plate, and prepared a more than usually sumptuous entertainment for her guest : 
after waiting for him half an hour beyond the time fixed, she got impatient, and expressed so much to her servant. " Oh, 
ma'am," said he, " he s below." " Indeed ! what's he doing? " "He's in the kitchen, ma'am, drj-ing his stockings at 
the fire." Question Jerry Sullivan concerning this and other stories of Sir Richard. 

It will interest and amuse those who have visited the Giant's Causeway, to compare and contrast the guides there 
with those at Killarney. In the north, they are singularly matter of fact ;" all their " discoorse " is learned. Tliey tell 
you what Doctors This and That said of Tliat and This, and school you with science upon some learned " authority.'"' In 
Killarney, on the contrary, they are all imaginative ; full of rich fan<ies, and fruitful in the inventive facultj-. They are 
lively and merry withal, and infinitely more pleasant companions than their fellows of Uie nonh. 



accustomed places ; they will not fail to pay him a tribute of remembrance as they 
stand beside the gravestone — as yet, we regret to say, unmarked by his name — 

that covers his remains, in holy 
Mucross, every spot of which knew 
his footsteps well. 

Honour, then, to the memory 
of pleasant " Sir Eichard;" and if 
now enlisted in the troop of 
O'Donoghue, the "good people" 
themselves may listen with delight 
to the "laagends" with which he 
was familiar, and follow him, with- 
out dread, through every 

" Glen and bosky dell." 

of their delicious dominions. We 
owe him much, and recall with 
gratitude the information he gave 
us, the stories he told us, and the 
wit and genuine humour that 
sparkled in so much he said and 
■ did. It has been difficult for i:s 
to visit any of the " ould places " 
during our recent visits, without 
bringing him to mind ; and we are 
happy in the knowledge that we 
lessened somewhat his poverty 
during his closing days, and helped 
to lay him decently in his grave. 

There is, of course, a guide — 
or, rather, there are guides — 
attached to each hotel ; and it is 
not etiquette to retain the services 
of " strangers to the house." An 
exception, however, seems to be 
universally made, and by common 
consent, in favour of one of them, to whom Ave shall refer presently, who is sent for 
when any of his old acquaintances desire his attendance — or when important guests 
arrive — no matter at what house they may be located. 

There is Gandsey, son of the famous piper, himself a good musician, plays an 
excellent bugle, and is a very intelligent man, having travelled also in America and 
mingled much with ''the quality." Miles Mac Sweeny, a most attentive and obliging 
person, who knows the locality, and can describe it well. He throws a fly, too, can 
aid the craftsman, and teach the neophyte, and makes the flies he uses. He is par 
excellence the angler of the lakes. Both these "good men and true" are now 
retained at the Victoria. Thomas Murphy, a good guide, a careful boatman, and an 
excellent fisherman — as we know by experience, for he contrived, although the wind 



was east, that we sliculd transfer a disli of trout from the lake to the kitchen of the 
Victoria. The O'Connors, father and son, will he found excellent guides in all i-espects. 
Edward Dumas is a kind and care-taking fellow, and a useful ally, notwithstanding 
he has but one arm, a defect for which he amply compensates by thought and 
consideration ; he is located at Cloghreen. Jack Lowney is an acquisition of much 
value. John Duggan, Jeny Clifford, James Cronan, and others, "too numerous to 
mention," will be found desirable companions and councillors to mountains and lakes. 
You must take your chance as to which of these will be your attendant, for it will 
depend on the hotel at which you are located. 

By many degrees, the best guides at the lakes and all through the district, are the 
brothers Spillane, sons of a worthy and venerable man, who was guide there befoi-e 
the present century was born, and who was the companion of all the " celebrities " by 
whom Killamey has been visited during the last sixty or seventy years. Both the 
brothers are attached to the Railway Hotel ; and the chances of retaining the services 
of either will, no doubt, often sway the visitor in determining where he will reside. 

The guide for whom all parties inquire — and ought to inquire — is Stephen 
Spillane. Stephen is, perhaps, better fitted for the new, than he would have been 
for the old, order of things; for he is of new, rather than of old, Ireland; a 
young man of good education, a teetotaller, and, although quite as courteous 
and actively obliging as his predecessors, he is acquainted with none of the " tricks " 
which, it must be confessed, have given their renown to Irish guides. He is a 
good angler, plays a bugle second only to his father, and in addition to being 
exceedingly well read in the history of the district, he is familiar with all the legends 
concerning which the Tourist should be anxious to hear. AYe consider, indeed, that 
Stephen Spillane is an acquisition to Killarney ; and rejoice that, if the fun, and 
frolic, and " rollicking " of the guide are daily becoming more and more matters of 
history, in their successors we find greater intelligence supplying the place of wit ; 
and at least as much civility, attention, and zeal."^' Stephen had, in the spring of 
1858, the honour to act as guide to his Eoyal Highness the Prince of Wales, during 
his Eoyal Highness's sojourn of eight days at " The Royal Yictoria Lake Hotel," 
accompanying him also to Yalentia and the wild sea-coast ; Micky Sullivan having 
had the honour to be his driver — the Prince using, on that occasion, the common car 
of the country. Stephen does not by any means appear to have been " puflcd up " 
by the privilege he enjoyed of so long and so often sitting beside the heir-apparent; 
but he speaks, in tenns it was very gratifying to hear, of the Prince's condescending 
and unaffected goodness to all who came within his reach. So also it may be said of 
the "charioteer," Micky Sullivan. His Royal Highness is a pleasant and happy 
"memory" at Killarney. 

John Spillane, the brother of Stephen, is also one upon whom dependence may be 
placed for courtesy, and general knowledge of the several matters concerning which 
Tourists will desire to be informed. He is also well acquainted with " the legends," 
and tells a story with point and effect. He inherits the family quality of musical 

* Stei'lien Sinllane is also a somewhat extensive dealer in "Kerry cattle;" and everj- year, when the "season " is 
over at Killamey, he visits Enpland to deliver the " orders " he has received from visitors to the Lakes. His integrity 
and general pood conduct have made him the confidant of all who have dealings in this way. He is indeed carrjing on a 
thriving trade in Kerrj- cows : having had large exiierience in their good qualities— selecting " choice syecmiens 
wherever he meets them on his joumevs about the district ; and being de&er\-edly tnisted. 


taste, and is of course a master of the bugle. John superintends the fishery at Glena, 
and all the fishery rights belonging to Lord Kenmare. 

Michael Cliflbrd, son of Jeremiah Clifford, the " commodore " at the Eailway 
Hotel, and husband of a gentle woman, who sells the bog- wood ornaments there, is 
also one of its guides. He is a very intelligent young man, who collects ferns for 
visitors ; knows all the varieties of the district and their habitats : how to prepare 
and pack them ; and may enrich many a city conservatory with " things of beauty," 
such as may be always pleasant memories of beautiful places — happy associations of 
happy days. 

In "the town," visitors must take their chance for guides; but, as we bave 
intimated, they will never be at a loss for one. Those, however, will be fortunate at 
Xillarney who are lucky enough to obtaia a good " body-guard." Candidates for the 
anticipated honour and emolument will present themselves at every turn, chattering 
eagerly — of all sizes and ages, prompt to display their accomplishments, and set 
themselves off to the best advantage.* 

* Notices at the sever? 1 hotels inform the Tourist that no fees or gratuities are to be given to drivers, boatmen, or 
guides, who are charged for in the bill. Assuredly they will ask for none, they will be quite content to have done their 
day's work for their day's hire. But who is there that does not feel how much he may add to his own happiness by 
making happy those from whom so much of his enJojTnent is derived ? Who is there that when pleasure is a sole purpose, 
will not like to give pleasure ? Notwitlistanding these requisitions to give nothing, we believe few Tourists will act upon 
the warning. They will contrive some means by which a gratuity may be bestowed- especially if there be a large party 
— upon the boat's crew, for instance, who will have toiled hard in the midst of much loveliness ; upon tlie driver, whose "top 
coat " maj' have been wet through for hours ; upon the guide, upon whose active zeal, good humour, and natiu'al politeness, 
so much of a day's delight has depended ; under the very best circumstances the money earned by boatmen, drivers, and 
guideg, is money hardly earned, and but for a brief season ! 



Our First Day's Toui' will be to the Upper Lake, commencing at Lough. Luis-ca-nagh, 
thence to Derricunnihy Waterfall ; thence to the Tore AYaterfall ; and thence to 
Mucross Demesne and Abbey. 

AVe adopt this course, because those who visit Ivillarncy via Glengariff will take 
all these objects in their route, and so occupy one of the allotted days to be given to 
the Lakes; that is, however, assuming they leave Glengariff early in the morning of 
a summer's day. It is obvious that those who arrive by railroad Avill have to " begin 
backwards;" but many who arrive at Killarney by railroad, return to Cork by Glen- 
gariif and liantry ; and there are many who recommend this route as the best, obtain- 
ing horses at the hotel in Killarney, and carrying them on until a railway is reached. 



The Lakes may be said to commence midway between Kenmare and Killarney. 
Midway, therefore — that is to say, just ten miles from either town — we shall now 
place the Tourist. 

Just at the point we refer to is a small lake — Lough Luis-ca-nagh. It lies in a 
little valley, through which the road runs. It is without trees, and almost without 
underwood; denuded even of the broom, the bramble, and the furze; indeed, allthe 
minor lakes about Kerry have the same barren and naked character. Scarcely is it 
passed, however, and a small steep ascended, when the glory of the Upper Lake 
bursts upon us. The spectator is startled by the sudden prospect to which a few 
steps introduce him ; he is totally unprepared for the wonderful sublimity of the 
scene — taken in almost at a glance. He stands on the summit of a lofty hill — yet a 


molehill compared to the mountains that surround him ; below, winding about the 
valley, is "the Upper Lake," so narrow and tortuous, and so diminished by distance, 
that at first sight it seems nothing more than one of its tributary rivers. Far away, 
between Tore and Glena mountains, which from this point appear to jut out and assume 
the aspect of supporters to vast, but ever open, gates, a glimpse is caught of the Lower 
Lake, and of the hill crowned by a modern castle that looks down upon its eastern 
border. Immediately pushing out, as it were, before us, on our path, is "the drooping 
mountain" — Cromagloun — the most rough and rugged of all the guardians of the 
Lakes. To the left are the mountains — outskirts of the eternal Reeks — that shut in 
Dunloe Gap. The whole of the Upper Lake is fully and amply seen ; the eye traces 


the twisting channel — "the Long Eange " — that connects it with its sister kkes ; 
numbers of small islets are scattered about its surface ; •>' and in the far-oif glimpse of 
a broad sheet of water — the Lower Lake — we obtain the foretaste of a banquet — 
abundant, healthful, and delicious. Bat if the Upper Lake — considered as a Lake, 
merely — is calculated, as we think it is, to disappoint at fii'st, it is grand beyond 
conception, and certainly far suipasses its more beautiful sisters in the wild maguifi- 
cence and stern sublimity of j!^ature. From the point we are describing, this peculiar 
characteristic is not perhaps so striking as it will be when we descend more into the 
valley. And let us descend : — presently we reach " the Constabulary Barrack," from 
a spot adjacent to which there is another glorious view. It is called "The Vikw 
E.0CK." The eye stretches along over the several islands — the Lake Hotel bounding 
the distance, behind which is a range of hills. We have been watching, from the 
height, the road that runs past it, and have marvelled how it can convey us down tlie 
steep : tracing it closely, however, we perceive that it travels round two or three 
jutting rocks, covered with the richest foliage ; a peep at it may be had every now 
and then ; at length it is seen, deeply below, skirting the borders of the Lough. AVe 
shall reach it anon, and he on level ground ; but not until we have made at least a 
score of pauses, sprung as olten off and on the car, and mounted some tiny hillock 
to feast upon the prospect once again. We reach the Tunnel at length ; we pass 
through it, and the mountain is at our back. We shall have to climb no other while 
the day lasts. Here we are in the centre of Beauty's attractions only ; the road is 
overhung by huge rocks ; but each of them is richly clothed — some with huge forest 
trees, others with the lighter and gayer arbutus ; while, at the bases of all, spring up 
gigantic weeds in marvellous luxuriance, fed perpetually by the clear water that oozes 
through every crevice, forming here and there miniature cataracts, bearing down tiny 
pebbles to deposit by the road side. So, on we go — now and then peeping, tluough 
breaks in the foliage, at the bleak hills opposite, and occasionally crossing a bridge, 
under which pushes a rapid river. One of them, on its way into the lake, forms the 
Cascade of Dereicui^nihy ; and this the Tourist must delay to visit. A by-road of 
about a quarter of a mile leads to it. We soon hear its roar, and ere long mark its 
foam ascending above the trees. It is beautiful — very beautiful — and its beauty is 
enhanced by the charming character of the locality in which it is placed. A little 
rustic bridge crosses the narrow river, and leads to a cultivated garden, where a 
cottage — Hyde's Cottage — formerly stood. The old cottage is gone, but the liberality 
of Lord Castlerosse has given to travellers another in its place, where they may "rest 
and be thankful ;" but the garden remains ; and never have we seen shrubs of finer 
growth. The rhododendrons have mounted almost into forest trees, and were literally 
covered with giant blossoms. A tangled path, overshadowed by the arbutus, holly, 
yew and hazel, leads to the cascade. It is inferior to that of Tore, which we are now 
approaching ; and we leave it, therefore, undescribed.f 

* Tliese islets we sliall notice more particularly when rowing through the Upper Lake. It may be proper here to 
mention that the acivantjige of a guide at this spot is incalculable. During our first visit we were wiihout one, and pasted 
within a few yards of the most magnificent views presented by the locality without seeing one of tliem. Indeed, there 
is one particular spot- a mile or so from Luis-ca-n:igh — where a small rock pushes up a little above the road; unhappy 
will be the tourist who does not stop here ! Just at the other side of this rock, turning a mere corner, perhaps the finest 
view in the whole district is to be obtained. 

t While resting underneath the Waterfall, and close beside a pretty rustic bridge, we encountered an entomologist 
with whom we fell into discoui'se. He was in the seventh heaven of delight, for he had just discovered and filled his box 



A short distance farther, and we reach the entrance to the long and narrow 
promontory, called " Coleman's Eye," — a promontory which, stretching out into the 
lake, compresses it, and produces the channel known as the Long Eange. At some 


convenient place in this vicinity, let the traveller stop and look back. A rude 
diagram (introduced on the succeeding page) may convey some idea of the locality in 
which it stands. 

jSTo fewer than twelve of the mountains are within ken — he may see the summits 
of them all by merely looking right and left, over his shoulder. Perhaps it would be 
difficult to find, in the whole district, a single spot that can furnish so grand and 
accurate an idea of the peculiarities of Killarney. 

The road is continued just above the lake ; but the lake is hidden, now and then, 
by intervening trees, and thick masses of underwood ; at length we are opposite the 
"Eagle's Nest" — a craggy rock from this point of view; we shall see it better 
when rowing through the Long Range. 

A mile or so, and we reach a small mountain rivulet, trickling down the sides of 
the natural wall, that makes the land boundary of the road ; the lakes and their con- 

■with many specimens of " Ihe Hydrillia Banksiana" — a small moth, beautifully marked, that had not, he informed us, 
been found in the British islands for forty years. It was discovered by Sir Joseph Banks, after whom it was named. 
Our acquaintance had j^one fortli to seek for it ; expecting he might meet it in some place where "the sweet gale" was 
growing abundantly ; and he did so find it — in a httle bog in this vicinity. Eureka! 



uecting river form it on the other side. This streamlet is " the Lexe," said (upon 
what evidence we cannot tell) to have given, in days of old, a name to the Great 
Lake. To point out all the scenic beauties that occur along this course is out of the 
question. That must be the task of the guide. He will not hurry you, if you let him 
have his own way — as you will do, if you are wise. Once at least in every furlong 
you will have to stop, and gaze either upon some distant object or some beauty close 
within your ken ; noting where the ancient denizens of the woods and forests — the 
oak, and yew, and holly of centuries old — are mingled with the young growths of 

Bac^ of 
Eaftle's Nest 


yesterday. Moreover, it is not improbable that if you ascend one of the heights, you 
will see a gi'oup of red-deer in the valley underneath. 

At length we arrive at the Torc "Waterfall — the most famous, and beyond com- 
parison the most grand and beautiful of all the cascades about the Lakes. The path 
that leads to it is entered through a gate (close to which is a small lodge) and over a 
bridge which crosses the stream that runs into the lake. 

The cascade is a chasm beween the mountains of Torc and Maugerton : the fall is 
between sixty and seventy feet. The path that leads to it by the side of the rushing 
and brawling current, which conducts it to the lake, has been judiciously curved, so 
as to conceal a full view of the fall until the visitor is immediately under it ; but the 
opposite hill has been beautifully planted — Art having been summoned to the aid of 
Nature — and the tall young trees are blended with the evergreen arbutus, the holly, 
and a vast variety of shrubs. As we advance, the rush of waters gradually breaks 



upon the ear, and at a sudden turning tlie cataract is beheld in all its glory. And 
most glorious, in truth, it is, seen under any circumstances ; — even in the most arid 
season it is beautiful — the white foam breaking over huge rocks, casting the spray to 

inconceivable distances ; rushing and brawling 
along its course into the valley ; scattering its 
influences among the long green ferns, and 
giving such prodigious vigour to the wild vege- 
tation it nourishes, that giant weeds thicken 
into underwood along its banks, and here and 
there meet and join across the stream. 

In the hot summer time this waterfall is 
indeed beautiful ; but in winter — or in winter 
weather — its magnificence can scarcely be 
pictured by the imagination. Let not the 
reader think this poor print can do it. It con- 
veys about as much idea of the grace and 
grandeur of the Tore Waterfall as a single 
feather can do of the form and plumage of a 
bird of paradise. The water descends in a 
broad sheet, and the first fall is of considerable 
width. The passage is then narrowed, and 
another fall occurs ; then follows a succession 
of falls — all rushing and foaming against the 
mountain sides ; and, indeed, almost from the 
base of the great fall until it reaches Tore Lake, the river goes leaping from one rock 
to another. Sitting by its side, it requires no great stretch of fancy to believe it a 
living thing. ^' 

Leaving the waterfall we resume our journey, and soon reach the pretty village of 
Cloghkeen. Mr. Weld described it, in 1812, as "a decayed village." It has, we 
are happy to say, got rid of that character, A very elegant little building — the 
village school — has been placed here, at the expense of the Herbert family; and a 
pretty church, of recent erection, gives an aspect of cheerfulness and comfoi't to the 
locality. The shops and cottages about are neatly built and well ordered. Behind 
it is a pretty lough, out of which a clear stream runs, and flows into the Lower 
Lake. On a height immediately above the village is the little church of Killaghie 
— we believe the smallest church in the kingdom. In its construction it is very 
simple, and is obviously, with the exception of its tower, of remote antiquity. 
AVild flowers, of various hues, grow from the walls, and adorn its roof of stone. 
From this spot an extensive and most attractive view may be obtained ; indeed, 
it is one of the favoured places from which to gain a prospect of the Tore and 
Lower Lakes. 

At the village of Cloghreen, then, we rest awhile — if our home, for a season, is to 
be either Hurley's (formerly Roche's) or O'Sullivan's Hotel. The entrance-gate to Mr. 
Herbert's demesne is near at hand. Through this gate we must pass. 


* Close to tlie Tore Waterfall has been found the rarest of British ferns — the Bristle Fern (Trichomrr?ics speciusum). 
It is, we believe, peculiar to Ireland, and has not hitherto been discovered either in England, Scotland, or Wales. 



Eut before we visit "the Abbey," let us talce a ramble througli the demesne, half 
riding and half walking ; for the tourist will have little notion of the distance he 
has yet to travel before the day's work is done ; a very long distance it will be ; 
although, being within the demesne, he docs not again leave it.* 

A. visit to the Abbey may be postponed for an hour or two. It will be improved 
when the evening shades are over it ; the sunlight is in ill-keeping with its sombre 


character. On, then, we go, lea-ving Mucross to the left, driving nearly in the 
middle of the narrow promontory that separates the Lower Lake from Tore Lake,f 
and making our way over Erickeen Bridge into Dixis Islaxd. 

The tourist, then, will enter at Mucross gate — open to visitors every day, and 
on Sundays after two o'clock — and proceed along "the drive," by which Mr. Herbert, 
with admirable taste, has girdled his beautiful lake. A poet might liken it to a 
huge diamond encircled by emeralds; and surely, in the three kingdoms, for its extent 
(ten English miles), there is nothing to surpass it. Immediately after entering, the 
Abbey to the left, and the deep woodland, are so close and sheltered, that you are 
unprepared for the alternating views of mountain and water presented at every turn. 

The peninsula, which luns out in a line with the Abbey, divides the two lakes. 
On the right, glimpses are perpetually caught of the Lower Lake ; while on the left 
the prettiest parts of Tore have been skilfully brought into view — the mountains, 
distant and near, overhanging all. Passing the "old mines" (marked on the map) 

* From the gate at Mucross throuyli the ilemesne, passing over Brickeen Bridge, through Dinis Island, out again 
upon the main road, by Tore WatertuU — during which the demesne has not been quitted — is exactly ten Enghsh miles. 
But, as we shall show, if the tourist examines— as suiely lie ought to do — the beauties of two most beautiful "walka," 
the distance will be icreased liy at least three miles. 

t Tore Lake derives its name from the Irish Tore, " a wild boar;" and Mucross from "the pleasant place of wild 
swine." Dinis is derived from Diuo-iske, " the beginning of the water," and Brickeen from Bric-in, "the place of email 




and tlie little Lough Doolagli, the road runs over Brickeen Bridge— a bridge of a 

single arch, connecting the peninsula with Brickeen Island ; continuing through this 

island, another bridge connects it with 
_ Dinis Island. Here Mr. Herbert has 

built a pretty, picturesque, and commo- 
dious cottage, for the gratuitous use of 
visitors. It is furnished with every re- 
quisite for their entertainment, and 
proper persons are there who render 
willing service to such as may require 
attendance — a turf fire being always pre- 
pared for that necessary portion of an 
Irish feast — the potatoes ; and moreover, 
with " arbutus skewers," to aid in pro- 
ducing a luxury that may give a new 
pleasure to the most refined epicure — the 
salmon sliced and roasted, within a few 
minutes after he has been a free denizen 
of the lake. 
Once more a bridge is crossed — a bridge from Dinis Island across the channel that 

runs from the Long Eange into Tore Lake — and the visitor is again on the mainland. 

Here a small by-road conducts to the high road, and he is again on what is technically 



termed "the new line" — i.e. the line between Kenmare and Killarney. But still 
the drive is continued through the demesne, for parts of it lie on the other side of the 
public road, and run up the sides of old Tore mountain, farther than the most enter- 
prising pedestrian will be willing to explore ; for the underwood is so thickly matted, 
that it presents an effectual barrier. The rocks jut out so as to form continual lines of 


inaccessible precipices, and the red deer are not to be disturbed with impunity among 
their fastnesses, into which entrance is very rarely efTected without considerable peril. 
By the time he returns to the entrance-gate near Cloghreen, the Tourist will thus have 
driven ten miles — encii'cling a demesne that assuredly cannot have its equal in the 
dominions of the Queen. But let him not imagine that this drive will show him all 
he has to see — very far from it. To the most charming of its beauties neither car 
nor horse can conduct him. Immediately under the Abbey graveyard is a walk 
called "the Lady's Walk," which leads just above the borders of the Lower Lake. 
You may follow it on for two or three miles, and you cannot be wearied ; for seats 
are placed at proper intervals, and the mind will be perpetually refreshed. Above 
the borders of Tore Lake, also, there is another walk — " the Bock Walk" — of even 
greater beauty. It extends for nearly two miles, and may indeed be continued to 
Brickeen Bridge, and so into the island of Dinis. These walks are absolutely 
delicious. It is impossible for any description to do them justice. Nature formed 
them ; but Art and Taste have combined to render them perfect. Let the Tourist 
take especial care that the guide under whose guardianship he visits Mucross leads 
him to them.* 

At one particular turn we paused ; and as we did so, as if by magic, a glowing 
rainbow suddenly spanned the lake. It seemed to rise from the slope of a distant 
hill, and we fancied we could trace its course. 

" You'll have the gratest of luck, my lady," said our charioteer ; " it isn't every 
one that sees the ' rainbow's rest.' There's them would give all they have in the 
world — be it much or little — to see the foot of the rainbow on the mines we past not 
five minutes agone ! It's well known that there's a goold mine somewhere close ; 
and if the foot of the rainbow rested on a spot hereabouts, we'd know what it meant 
• — it would be a tell-truth, and no mistake — the goold would be there !" 

" But the foot of the rainbow is lost among those royal ferns yonder," was our 
reply ; " so we do not perceive the luck — if it was on the mine, indeed ! " 

" Yes, my lady, that would be money-luck ; and I often prayed I might catch the 
rainbow at it. And a poor fellow, laid long ago in holy Mucross, was, I heard tell, 
known by the name of ' Showery Jack ;' for the minute a shower came, he was off 
to see where the rainbow rested. It's fine exercise he had, I'm thinking, during his 
lifetime, dancing after the Killarney showers!" 

"But," we persisted, "we do not see the luck you talked of that is to come to us 
from only seeing the foot of the rainbow among those royal ferns." 

" The memory of it, my lady, whin you're far away ! Is it no luck to have the 
memory of such a beauty as that, whenever yoii plaze to want it? Sure, King 
Solomon in all his glory couldn't make the likes of it ; no, nor all earth's kings and 
queens! It's not one party in a hundred that comes this I'oad in sunshine-shower 
that has the luck of such a sight ; and see, now, how it's fading! My grandmother 
used to say these rainbows were made of O'Donaghoo's tears, that his daughter 
gathered up on Curanthuel, and dropt into this lake betimes to increase its beauty. 
It's as gone now, my lady, as if it had never been ; but sure, you're in luck to have 
seen it." 

* The leader will — by this time — have some idea that, though Mucross, Tore, and the half-score of other places named 
in this day's tour, may be looked at in a day, the demesne of Mucross alone will demand a full day, and give ample 
occupation and abundant enjojmcut between susrise and sunset. 



And now let lis visit the Abbey, for the shades of night will, no doubt, he setting 
in — and that is the time to visit it. Lucky, indeed, will you be if the moon is up ; 
for it is quite as true of Mucross as of Melrose — to see it 

" Aright, 
Go visit it by the pale moonlighi ! " 

The site was chosen with the usual judgTaent and taste of " the monks of old," who 
invariably selected the pleasantest of all pleasant places. The original name was 
Ieeelough ; and it appears that long prior to the erection of this now ruined structure 
a church existed in the same spot, which was consumed by fire in 1192. The Abbey 


was built for Franciscan monks, according to Archdall, in 1440; but the Annals of 
the Four Masters give its date a century earlier. Eoth, however, ascribe its founda- 
tion to one of the Mac Carthys, princes of Desmond. It was several times repaired, 
and once subsequently to the Reformation, as we learn fi'om the following inscription 
on a stone let into the north wall of the choir : — 

"®xnk p idki bMu fris Sil^ak fjokm rjui Ijuitc sacra conbttn b^ xiobo wparau tmnhit 
^mto ^omini milUsimo S£*-t«ntisimo bigtsiino sc^lo." 

The building consists of two principal parts — the convent and the church. The 
church is about one hundred feet in length and twenty-four in breadth ; the steeple, 
which stands between the nave and the chancel, rests on four high and slender- 
pointed arches. The principal entrance is by a handsome pointed doorway, luxuriantly 
overgrown with ivy, through which is seen the great eastern window. The inter- 
mediate space, as, indeed, every part of the ruined edifice, is filled with tombs, the 
greater number distinguished only by a slight elevation from the mould around them; 



but some containing inscriptions to direct the stranger where especial honour should 

be paid. A large modern tomb, in the centre of the choir, covers the vault, in which 

in ancient times were interred the Mac Carthy Mor, 

and more recently the O'Donoghue Mor of the Glens, 

whose descendants were buried here so late as the 

year 1833.* Close to this tomb, but on a level with 

the earth, is the slab which formerly covered the 

vault. It is without inscription, but bears the 

arms of the Earl of Clancare. The convent as well 

as the church is in very tolerable preservation ; and 

Mr. Herbert has taken care, as far as he can, to baulk 

the consumer, Time, of the remnants of his glorious 


The dormitories, the kitchen, the refectory, the 
cellars, the infirmary, and other chambers, are still 
in a state of comparative preservation : the upper 
rooms are unroofed ; and the coarse grass grows 
abundantly among them. The great lire-place of 
the refectory is curious and interesting— aftbrding evidence that the good monks 
were not forgetful of the duty they owed themselves, or of the bond they had entered 




into,_to act upon the advice of St. Paul, "And be given to hospitality." This recess 
is pointed out as the bed of John Drake — a pilgrim who about a century ago took up 
his abode in the Abbey, and continued its inmate during a period of several years. 

1*1 Tl^® descendant and reiiresentative of this ancient fumily is still happily "to the fore " a prosperous and accom- 
piisUed gentleman ; whose tide, " The O'Donoghue," ia among the most honourable titles of the kingdom. 


As will be supposed, his sinj^ular choice of residence has given rise to abundant 
stories ; and the mention of his name to any of the guides or boatmen will at once 
produce a volume of the marvellous. 

The cloister, which consists of twenty-two arches, ten of them semicircular and 
twelve pointed, is the best preserved portion of the Abbey. In the centre grows a 
magnificent yew-tree, which covers, as a roof, the whole area ; its circumference is 
thirteen feet, and its height in proportion. It is more than probable that the tree is 
coeval with the Abbey ; that it was planted by the hands of the monk who built the 
sacred edifice centuries ago. 

Although for a very long period the monks must have lived and died in the 
abbey of Mucross, posterity has been puzzled to find out the places where they are 
interied. Time has mingled their remains with those of the tens of thousands of 
nameless men who have here found their homes ; but the peasantry still point out 

> '0 


■ Pcni! 


an ancient, singular, and rudely-constructed vault on the outside of the church, and 
immediately under the east window, where the bones of the holy fathers have become 

Having arrived at the close of his first day's tour — no doubt prolonged until the 
twilight has deepened into night — perhaps before the Tourist retires to rest he will 
have no objection to receive some information on a subject to which a visit to Mucross 
may naturally turn his attention — the funeral ceremonies of the Irish, which are 
peculiar, remarkable, and interesting. 

The formalities of "the Wake" commence almost immediately after life has 
ceased. The corpse is at once laid out, and the wake begins ; the priest having been 
first summoned to say mass for the repose of the departed soul, which he generally 
docs in the apartment in which the body reposes. 

The ceremonies difi'er somewhat in various districts, but only in a few minor and 
unimportant particulars. The body, decently laid out on a table or bed, is covered with 
white linen, and, not unfrequently, adorned with black ribbons, if an adult ; white. 



if the party be unmarried ; and flowers, if a child. Close by it, or upon it, are 
plates of tobacco and snuff; around it are lighted candles. Usually a quantity of salt 
is laid upon it also. The women of the household range themselves at either side, 
and the keen {caoine) at once commences. 
They rise with one accord, and, moving their 
bodies with a slow motion to and fro, their 
arms apart, they continue to keep up a heart- 
rending cry. This cry is interrupted for a 
while to give the han caointhe (the leading 
keener) an opportunity of commencing. At 
the close of every stanza of the dirge the cry 
is repeated, to fill up, as it were, the pause, 
and then dropped ; the woman then again pro- 
ceeds with the dirge, and so on to the close. 

The keener is usually paid for her services ; 
the charge varying from a crown to a pound, 
according to the cii'cumstances of the employer. 

" live upon the dead, 
By letting out their persons by the hour 
To mimic sorrow when the heart's not sad." 

It often happens, however, that the family 

has some friend or relation rich in the gift >^'^>^^->r.^=. 

of poetry, and who will, for love of her kin, give the unbought eulogy to the memory 
of the deceased. The Irish language, bold, forcible, and comprehensive, full of the 
most striking epithets and idiomatic beauties, is peculiarly adapted for either praise 
or satire ; its blessings are singularly touching and expressive, and its curses wonder- 
fully strong, bitter, and biting. The rapidity and ease with which both are uttered, 
and the epigrammatic force of each concluding stanza of the keen, generally bring 
tears to the eyes of the most indifferent spectator, or produce a state of terrible 
excitement. The dramatic effect of the scene is very powerful : the darkness of the 
death chamber, illumined only by candles that glare upon the corpse, the manner of 
repetition or acknowh dginent that runs round when the keener gives out a sentence, 
the deep, yet suppressed sobs of the nearer relatives, and the stormy uncontrollable 
cry of the widow or bereaved husband when allusion is made to the domestic virtues 
of the deceased — all heighten the effect of the keen ; but in the open air, winding 
round some mountain-pass, when a priest, or person greatly beloved and respected, 
is carried to the grave, and the keen, swelled by a thousand voices, is borne upon the 
mountain echoes — it is then absolutely magnificent.* 

* The " keen " is not often heard now-a-days, and the ceremonies connected with death have of late lost much of their 
earlier — more picturesque, but more barbarous- accompaniments. We followed, in l!^58,a funeral to Aghadoe; therewere 
attendant keeners, who chanted the death-song nearly all the way. The funeral was a very large one; a young woman 
much respected and beloved at KiUarney, was going to her last home : it was followed by between two and tliree hundred 
men, walking or in cars. W^e watched them closely, and observed, with exceeding pleasure, that there was not one of 
the party who gave evidence of having taken "drink." Such a circumstance would have been impossible in old times : 
it w;is then a in alter of course, if not of positive duty, that every individual of the party should have been drunk on such an 
occasion. We rejoice, therefore, to sujiply this conclusive proof that " temperance " \\aa not vanished — if it be in a degree 
lessened — from Ireland since the labours of Father MatUew ceased. 



The following affords an idea of the air to which it is usually chanted : 





— 1^ 

The keener is almost invariably an aged woman ; or if she be comparatively 
young, the habits of her life make her look old. We remember one, whom the 
artist has pictured from our description ; we never can forget a scene in which she 
played a conspicuous part. A young man had been shot by the police as he was 

resisting a warrant for his arrest. He was of "decent people," and had "a fine 
wake." The woman, when we entered the apartment, was sitting on a low stool by 
the side of the corpse. Her long black uncombed locks were hanging about her 
shoulders ; her eyes were the deep-set greys, peculiar to the country, and which are 


capable of every expression, from the bitterest hatred and the direst revenge to the 
softest and warmest affection. Her large blue cloak "was confined at her throat ; but 
not so closely as to conceal the outline of her figau'e, thin and gaunt, but exceedingly 
lithesome. When she arose, as if by sudden inspiration, first holding out her hands 
over the body, and then tossing them wildly over her head, she continued her chant 
in a low monotonous tone, occasionally breaking into a style earnest and animated ; 
and using every variety of attitude to give emphasis to her words, and enforce her 
description of the virtues and good qualities of the deceased. " Swift and sure was 
his foot," she said, "on hill and valley. His shadow struck terror to his foes; he 
could look the sun in the face like an eagle ; the whirl of his weapon through the air 
Avas fast and temble as the lightning. There had been full and plenty in his father's 
house, and the traveller never left it empty ; but the tyrants had taken all except his 
heart's blood — and that they took at last. The girls of the mountain may cry by the 
running streams, and weep for the flower of the country — but he would return no 
more. He was the last of his father's house ; but his people were many both on hill 
and valley : and they would revenge his death ! " Then, kneeling, she clenched her 
hands together, and cursed bitter curses against whoever had aimed the fatal bullet — 
curses which illustrate but too forcibly the fervour of Irish hatred. " May the light 
fade from your eyes, so that you may never see what you love ! May the grass grow 
at your door ! May you fade into nothing like snow in summer ! May your own 
blood rise against ye, and the sweetest drink ye take be the bitterest cup of sorrow." 
To each of her curses there was a deep "Amen," which the han caointhe paused to 
hear, and then resumed her maledictions. 



Awaken at daybreak ; look up to the Monntaing, and see 
if they, like you, have the nightcap on ; for, if the clouds 
be hovering above vs^ith an apparent will to settle there, 
your plan must be changed, and you may prepare to roam 
among the Islands, postponing the business of " strong 
climbers " to a more favourable time. If you have slept 
at Clogtreen, question gentle Tore or rugged Man- 
gerton as to the day's promise. The answer, be sure, will 
be a true one. If your home be the Victoria, open your 
window, and you will have, suddenly, a full sight of half 
a score of Mountains — from either or all of whom you may 
take counsel. To Glena and Tooraies a whisper will be 
audible ; Mangerton himself will hear you without asking 
you to raise your voice ; and the loftiest of the Giant 
Ilceks — even mighty Carran Tuel — is within 
^^L "--= hearing, if your call be but moderately loud. 
■Sf^l,^^^"^^^^ V- Let us anticipate the reply — a welcome and 
a reward! The mountain tops are clear; 
prepare for the ascent. Bear in mind that you are about to undertake no child's play. 


The labour is a severe one, although it may be "thought little of" by those who 
have perfomied harder feats ; but — 

" Though steep the track. 
The mountain-top, 'nlien elimb'd, will well o'erpay 
The scaler's toil. The prospect thence ! " 

Probably your choice of mountains -will be cleteiTiiined by the hotel at which you 
are located."^ At the Eailway Hotel you are about four miles from Mangerton and 
twelve from Carran Tuel ; at the Victoria, seven from the former, and ten from the 
latter ; at Cloghreen, you are a mile or so from the foot of Mangerton, and fifteen 
from that of Carran Tuel. The greater feat is to ascend the latter ; the easier task to 
mount the former. In either case be astir early. As we have intimated, a dozen or 
two of rugcred mountaineers, of all ages and sizes, will gather about your car as soon 
as you arrive at the mountain foot. The ponies, sent on before, have announced 
your coming ; and a rare group will be submitted from which to choose a guide, if 
you have not been wise enough to take one with you. As the safest way of showing 
the Tourist what he will have to say, do, and sec, let us pictm-e our own proceedings. 
We begin with Cap.ea>." Tuel.* 

A wild and dreaiy, yet not uninteresting or unpleasing, road leads to the moun- 
tain, running through a rude district, where Xature is left for the most part with no 
other restraint than her own will. Every now and then noble prospects are had — of 
wide and rich valleys, from the heights of barren hills, and, twice or thrice, glimpses 
may be caught of the pretty bay of Castlemaine. From Killamey to Carran Tuel, 
however, there are few objects that will tempt the Tourist to leave his car. 

On arriving at the base of the mountain, or rather by the side of a small and rapid 
river which runs from one of its lakes, the Tourist is invited to repose in a small 
hunting-lodge, f built by some of the neighbouring gentry chiefly for the accommo- 
dation of strangers. It was a good deed. The visitor will bless the architect when 
seated there after the descent, and to. the contents of his basket have been added fresh 
eggs, milk, and mealy potatoes, with which the care-taker is amply provided. Here 
the car remains, and the ponies are called into requisition. Half a dozen of " the 
boys " were about us ; but Sir Eichard was there as commanding officer, and Jerry 
Sullivan, as acting adjutant, brought up the rear to see that all was right. 

A goatherd joined our group, and, taking the bridle of a pony, commenced the 
actual duties of a guide. He had become necessary, for the path had grown so 
rugged that a passage over it seemed impossible. The herd was a stout-limbed 
fellow, with the expressive face of a savage ; he could not speak a word of English ; 
but there was not a stone, a stream, scarcely a tuft of heather in the glen, with which 
he was unacquainted. 

We may pause a moment in our details to relate an anecdote of this herd, as 
related to us by Jerry Sullivan. 

"Well?" exclaimed Jerry, "surely I ought to remember dat stone ; for I was 

* Can-an Tuel—" the inverted sickle ; " so called from the peculiar form of its top. When Mr. Weld visited it in 1S<12, 
tlie labour of the ascent must have been more serious than it is now, for many ladies contrive to ascend it; nor is it indeed 
verj- dilficult. Tlie ponies bear them until wiiliin two miles of the top: and if the day is begun early, and a couple of 
hours can be given to these two miles, the feat is easily accomplished. Until Mr. Weld ascended, '• no stranger," he was 
told, "had ever attempted it." 

t We noticed the following couplet scrawled in pencil on the wall, — 

" What to the desert is the fountain 
This pleasant lodge is to the moimtain." 


going up de mountain one fine day wid a party, and dere was one lady of de party 
got very tired. ' I'll go no farder,' she says : * only sit and wait here till down you 
come.' Well, she sat down quite contint ; and dere was a lot of dose mountain 
cattle and sheep grazing — or, I may say, picking de hits o' grass out o' de mountain : 
and I said to meeself, well, I hope none of de wild mountainy cattle will go and stare 
at de lady ; for, as she is English, she mightn't understand 'era ; hut dei^e was no 
use in saying any ting ahout it den, for we were far enough from her before I fancied 
at all ahout her. We got to de top, and had a most beautiful view — such a view 
as ne'er a kingdom but Kerry could lay before any gentleman — dere it was, just as 
stretched out by de Almighty's word : and to say de trute, it's little any of us tought 
about de lady below. Her husband told her after, he was tinking of her all de time ; 
but I'd take my oat he never said so. At last we scrambled down, and when we came 
in sight of de poor lady, I saw dat one of de wild mountain herds, one of de poor 
boys dat do be herding de cows and sheep night and day on de mountain, was standin 
opposite to her ; and sure I was very glad of it, for I says to meeself, de herd will 
keep de cattle from her, and not let her feel lonesome. Well I as we got nearer, I 
saw de lady every now ond den poke someting, which I took to be a long stick wid 
a little bag at de end of it, to de herd, and once he took de little bag oflP of it, and 
looked at it; and den he shook his shaggy red head, and gave it back to her. When 
she saw us, she seemed going mad wid joy ; and de herd began jumping, and trowing 
up his arms, and capering. By de time we got to de lady she was a' most in a faint ; 
and pointing to de herd, she said, ' he had come to murder her ; and she had oflPered 
him her purse on de top of her parasol not to do her any harm ; and he looked at de 
money tro' de net- work, but would not keep it.' And den she turned on her hus- 
band, and gave it to him for laving her (as she said) to be devoured by wild Irishmen ; 
and he coaxed her up, and told her how she would stay, and how she was never out of 
his toughts a minit. And den de poor herd told us, in Irish, how 'seeing a lady 
alone in de mountain, he was fearsome de cattle might do her some harm ; and he 
came over to her for company, to keep dem off; and how she had done noting but 
make faces at him, and wouldn't answer anyting he said ; and he doing his best for 
her, and didn't know what she meant by giving him a little bag to look at ; — and 
sure it couldn't be dat such a fine lady could be fearsome of such as he.' And when 
de lady gave time to herself to get her senses togedcr, she was gi'ately amused at 
her own fright, and gave de poor fellow five shillings : and, indeed, I've often tought 
dat she is not de only English person dat is afeerd of us, just because dey don't 
understand us." * 

We resume the ascent up Carran Tuel. " The Hag's Glen " is now reached. The 
glen is, in reality, the base of the mountain. For, although we have been ascending 
for above three miles since we left the lodge, the ascent is so gradual as to be scarcely 
perceptible. Here, however, we come to a dead stop. We stand between two small 
but singularly leaden and dead-looking mountain loughs. They are the baths of 
" the Hag " — the ruling demon of the glen; in one of them is her bed; among the 
overhanging cliff's are her chair, her crutch, and her cap; while "her tooth" is a 
crag, as hideous-looking as if it really belonged of right to the jaw of the foul fiend. 

* In this anecdote we have transcribed the Kerry pronunciation ; for English Tourists cannot fail to perceive how 
seldom they hear " th " properly sounded. The English language, however, was for a long time, to the peasant & foreign 
one, and frequently those who cannot sound the diphthong can quote Latin verses. 



We look i;p — the mountain seems absolutely perpendicular : to climb it appears an 
impossibility. The ponies are left to browse the stunted herbage round ; and those 
who have strong limbs and sound lungs must commence a task of labour, for which, 
however, there is a huge reward. On we go — up we go — resting every now and 
then, to take breath, to receive the encouraging cheers of the guide, and to look 
about us. After a couple of hours' most severe labour, the two miles — thereabouts — 
from the Hag's Glen to the summit, are passed over. "VVe stand on the peak of 
Carran Tuel — the highest mountain in Ireland, exactly 3,414 feet from the level of 
the sea. 

Here the London Pride grows in rich luxuriance ; and a small stream of pure water 
issuing from the crevice of a rock, and oozing through the soil, makes the surrounding 
herbage of the richest and brightest green. Frightful are the precipices all about us ; 
but we have no business, as yet, to look down. ]N^orth, south, east, and west, the 
view is open. How weak is language to picture memory ! 

The prospect is indeed inconceivably grand — past counting are the Lakes — seen 
everywhere among the minor Eeeks, the lesser hills, and the valleys near and distant.* 
Within immediate ken are the Bays of Tralee, Kenmare, Dingle, and Bantiy ; farther 
off is Cape Clear on the one side, and on the other the mighty Shannon ; while, 
beyond all, is the broad Atlantic. A glorious day — a day never to be forgotten — a 
day full of profitable and most rich enjoyment — will he have spent who spends it 
ascending Carran Tuel. 

From this description and these details, good reader, you will know that the task 
of ascending Carran Tuel is no light one. If you be old, or plethoric, or scant 
of breath, do not attempt it ; for if you be either, you will " give in " when half-way 
up, or be so thoroughly overworked, that the remainder of your tour will be a trouble. 
Yet it is pleasant to state that in May, 1858, this work was undertaken and earned 
through by a youth aged but sixteen ; bred, it is supposed, in the lap of luxurious 
ease ; who might have been excused if he had been either unwilling or unable to 
perform a task so assured of toil and difficulty. He did it manfully and well ; stepping 
out boldly — help being neither asked for nor available here : climbing from cliff to 
cliff, leaping from morass to morass, and pacing through acres of wet and heavy bog ; 
breasting the rude blasts that came through eveiy gulley on his way, and encountering 
the fierce wind that triumphs ever on the mountain top. It is, we say, pleasant to 
know that a youth did all this — which a man in the vigour of life might have hesitated 
to go through — and that the youth was the Prince of Wales. We are thus happy in 
having evidence of his strength of lung and limb ; seeing with no common joy the 
track he took in ascending, and especially that by which he descended into the Black 
Valley, so making his way — and still a long way for a stout walker — to the boat that 
awaited him at Brandon's Lodge — a boat placed at his disposal by Mr. Herbert, and 
manned by four as fine fellows as Her Majesty could find in her dominions. f 

And now for the ascent up Mangertox. 

Here let us remark that Carran Tuel has fewer pilgrims than Mangerton — obviously 

* But a small portion of the Lower Lake is, however, visible from this point. It is shut from the sight by intervening 

t Spillane has marked the spot upon the highest point on Carran Tuel by a few stones, of which his Royal Highness 
plated tlie tirst. It is probable that all after visitors will add to it, and that in time it will become a large cairn with a 

liappj' memory. 



because Mangerton is more accessible, while the ascent is easier ; and perhaps it 
would be unjust to say that the recompense is much less. To those, indeed, whose 
grand object is to form acquaintance with " The Lakes," Mangerton has attractions 
greater even than those of Carran Tuel — as we shall show presently. 

If the ascent up Carran Tuel be a serious labour, neither is the journey to the 
summit of Mangerton to be thought of lightly ; although mighty efforts at mounting 
both may excite a smile in those who have climbed the "Monarch of Mountains." 
For a very long period, until within the present century, indeed, Mangerton had 
usurped the honour of ranking as the highest of the Irish mountains: so Dr. Smith 
describes it, although he admits that the Reeks " /oo/c more lofty." Since the inquiries 
of Mr. Nimmo, and the improvements in surveying, Mangerton has, however, been 
compelled to resign its thi'one, and "hide its diminished head." Still, to dwellers in 
the valley, and more especially those of the city, its height is sufficient to afPord a 
pretty correct idea of what a veritable mountain actually is. We commenced our 

'^'^ l^u 


excursion on a morning that gave promise of a fine day ; mounted on the sure-footed 
ponies whoni "practice had made perfect," and who are never known to stumble. 
Indeed, a trip would not unfrequently prove fatal to the rider. A road leads from 
Cloghreen to the base of the mountain. As this portion of his service seemed to be 
that upon which Sir Richard chiefly prided himself, he had assumed an additional 
degree of importance; and issued orders "in good set terms" to his subordinates. 








-- t;^ 

A crowd soon gathered about us, men, women, girls, and boys, with vial-bottles of 
potheen and cans of goat-milk: each with a greeting — " Yer honour's welcome to 
Mangerton." About a score of them were in attendance as we reached a group of 
wretched hovels at the foot of the mountain ; and the crowd grew like a snow-ball as 
it moved onwards.* Take a portiait of one of them — a fine hale and healthy mountain 
maid ; as buoyant as the breeze, and as hardy as the heath that blossoms on its 
summit. The sure feet of our horses were soon tried ; the little rough-coated animals 
had to make their way over rocks, bogs, and huge stones, through rushing and 
brawling streams, and along the brinks of precipices — places where it would be very 
difficult for persons unaccustomed to mountain travelling to move along on foot. At 
length we reached "the Devil's Punch-bowl," a small lake in the midst of rocks 
almost perpendicular. Our rude sketch may convey some idea of its singular character. 
The water is intensely cold ; yet, in the 

severest winter it never freezes; trout are ■ €''' /- 

never found in it, although they are plen- ";:__ --'■ '\ - 

tiful enough in the stream that runs out of ~-r " __Tii. 

it — the stream that Sir Richard called the 
" Styx," which supplies the Tore Waterfall. 
The peasant, of course, attributes this pecu- 
liarity to the influence of his Satanic majesty; 
but from its position it is never calm, being 
in a state of agitation on the mildest summer 
day. As it is chiefly supplied by springs 
that pass over the surrounding peat-beds, the 
water is of a very dark colour, and its depth 
is said to be unfathomable. A footpath 
marks the way to the summit of the moun- 
tain. It is a perfect level of considerable 
extent, covered with a deep stratum of peat 
moss ; into which the foot sinks some inches, 
even in the driest weather. 

The view from the mountain-top defies 
any attempt at description ; it was the 
most magnificent sight we had ever wit- 
nessed, and one that greatly surpassed even 
the dream of our imagination. In the far 
away distance is the broad Atlantic, with 
the river of Kenmare, the Bay of Eantry, the 
Bay of Dingle, and the storm-beaten coast of 
Iveragh ; farther off still, in another direction, are the Shannon, Tarbert, and Kilrush. 
Midway are the mountains, of all forms and altitudes, with their lakes, and cataracts, 
and streams of white foam. At oui" feet lie the three Killarney lakes, with Gleua, 
and Tore, and even Toomies, looking like protecting walls girdling tliem round about. 
The islands in the Upper and Lower Lake have, some of them, dwindled into mere 


Tiiurisls comiilain tenibly of the perpetual annoyance to wliich they are subject by the boys aiiJ piils, who follow 
lar llie grace antl ([Uict of the scene. Weil, it is an annoyance, but not "altogether so, ' 

tnem e^crJWIle^e, aim sauiy ni<ii m,^- ^i<i,.c aim (imui lu uic i^t-cinr. >* en, il is im uiiii»\> 
for they ai-e often picturesque, and must be considered as essential parts of the " scenery." 


specks, while the larger seem fitted only for the occu])ation of fairies. The river 
Flesk winds prettily along the valley ; and the Plesk Bridge, with its twenty-one 
arches, resembles a child's toy. We were peculiarly fortunate as regards the weather. 
Against the intense cold that prevails at all seasons on the heights we had been duly 
warned and prepared ; and our guide was loaded with matters we might have sadly 
missed if they had been withheld till our return. We had scarcely reached the top, 
when the clouds came suddenly round us — around, above, and below ; we could not 
see our companions, although they were but a few yards from us, and the rough play 
of the wind prevented us from, hearing their voices. At length Sir Richard crept to 
our side, and as if infected by the solemn expression of our countenances, he abstained 
for a while from breaking the reverie in which we indulged. After a time, however, 
he murmured some words of alarm lest the clouds should continue, and prevent our 
seeing the glorious prospect he had promised us. The dark light, for it is scarcely 
paradoxical to say so, continued about us for many minutes. It was a bright white 
mist in which we were enveloped ; and, as we attempted to peer through it, we could 
compare it to nothing but lying on the ground and looking upwards when the sky is 
unbroken by a single cloud. After a time, however, the clouds gradually drifted off ; 
and the whole of the magnificent panorama was displayed beneath us. The effect 
was highly exciting ; the beautiful foreground, the magnificent midway, and the 
sublime distance, were all taken in by the eye at once. While we gazed, however, 
the clouds again passed over the lanclscape, and all was once more a blank ; after a 
few minutes they departed, and gave to full view the whole of the grand and beautiful 
scene ; and in this manner above an hour was occupied, with alternate changes of 
darkness and light. On our way down the mountain, we deviated from the accustomed 
track to visit Coom-na-goppol — "the Glen of the Horse;" — so called, according to 
Mr. Weld, "from the excellence of its pastures;" but, according to Mr. Windele, 
"from the circumstance of one of these poor animals having been accidentally pre- 
cipitated over a craig into a dark lough at its base." The glen may be likened to 
a gigantic pit, surrounded on all sides by perpendicular mountain-rocks, in which 
the eagle builds its nest without the fear of man. It is inaccessible except from one 
particular spot, where its superabundant waters have forced a passage into a still 
lower valley. To reach it from the heights above would be almost impossible. Fol- 
lowing the course of the stream we are conducted through rich pasture ground to the 
borders of a spacious lake — Lough Kittane ; in extent it nearly equals Tore Lake, but 
Nature has left it without adornment — surrounded by rude and barren hills. 

Let the Tourist be as stout a mountaineer as ever trod on heather, he will not, 
after ascending and descending either Carran Tuel or Mangerton, set foot in the valley 
quite as "fresh" as he was when he commenced his journey. The sauce for Kerry 
mutton will have been brought down from the mountain ; and this day, especially, 
the Tourist will be little disposed to question the accuracy of the waiter — be he who 
he may (if our old friend, Jerry Connor, who now holds the chief place at " the Lake," 
so much the better), who will be sure to announce it as "the siveetest mutton in all 
Ireland." It is, however, so remarkably small, and the appetite will — for once at 
least — have gi'own so outrageously large, that the guest will stare as he looks at the 
dish when dinner is over. 

The exertion of the morning will prevent a very strong desire for renewed activity 
in the evening ; yet the remainder of a summer's day must not be lost. Advantage 




should therefore he taken of the opportunity to hear an Irish piper play, and to make 
acquaintance "with the Irish bagpipes — so long famous in story and song. The pipes 
are delicious or abominable — just according to the skill of the hand that rules them : 
and unhappily at Killarney now there is no one who can do them full justice. Still, 
as one of the peculiarities of the place, they ought to be seen and heard here. 

The bagpipes are said to have been introduced into Ireland from Caledonia ; 
though, if such be the case, a very early period must be assigned for their intro- 
duction, as we find them alluded to in the very ancient tale of Deirdre, supposed by 
the best judges to be an undoubted relic of Pagan times. It had the same use among 
the ancient Irish armies that it now has among the Highland regiments. But the 
Irish made, in the course of time, an improvement — by using a bellows to fill the 
chanter instead of the mouth, and continued making various additions until they 
produced the comparatively pleasant instrument, the union pipes. 

The accompanying figures represent the Irish bagpipes in their primitive and 
improved fonn. We have here the earliest 
pipes, originally the same as the Scotch, 
as appears from a drawing made in the six- 
teenth century, and given in Mr. Bunt- 
ing's work ; but now differ in having the 
mouth-piece suppHed by the bellows A, 
which being blown by the motion of the 
piper's arm, to which it is fastened, fills 
the bag b ; from whence, by the pressure 
of the other ann, the wind is conveyed 
into the chanter c, which is played on with 
the fingers, much like a common pipe. By means of a tube the wind is conveyed into 
the drones a, a, «, which, tuned at octaves to each other, produce a kind of cronan, 
or bass to the chanter. The cut re- 
presents the improved or union pipes, 
the drones of which, tuned at thirds 
and fifths, by the regulator a, have 

keys attached to them, which not /hliw 'Ii^Mt~p^- ^^^ ^'^ 

only produce the most delightful // WM^^^jf^^'^ !^^~^^0]jj 

accords, but enable the player to per- 
form parts of tunes, and sometimes 
whole tunes, without using the 
chanter at all. Both drones and 
chanter can be rendered quiescent by 
means of stops. 

The Pipers were at one period the 
''great originals" of Ireland. The 
race is gradually departing, or, at 
least, "sobering" do^vn into the 
ranks of ordinaiy mortals ; but there was a time when the piper stood out very pro- 
minently upon any canvas that pictured Irish life. Anecdotes of their eccentricities 
might be recorded that would fill volumes. For many years past their power has 
been on the wane ; temperance committed sad havoc on their prospects ; and, at 




length, the introduction of "Brass Bands" efFeetually destroyed the small balance 
that remained to them of hope. 

The king of Irish pipers — one who was worthy of his throne, and was the equal 
of the best of the old race — Gan'dsjkt — is gone : he sleeps calmly in the mid aisle of 
Mucross, and his spirit, no doubt, roams among the pleasant places he knew and loved 
so well. He was full of intelligence, point, and native humour ; but his humour was 
never coarse, and he had been so' much among the high-born and the high-bred as 
to have caught much of the manner that proclaims the gentleman. 

The Tourist cannot now hear this admirable player and excellent old man, whose 
mantle has not descended xipon any of his successors in the art. A reasonably good 
substitute, however, may be found in the piper, Daniel O'Leary. Tou will, perhaps, 
hear him when you visit beautiful Glena ; for he is fond of tuning his pipes among 
its sweet woods of arbutus, albeit he is " dark." He will convince the most sceptical 
as to the rare powers of the Irish pipes, when in hands able to sustain their long- 
established repute. 

In no district can acquaintance with Irish native melody be so profitably and 
pleasantly cultivated as at Killamey. Many will visit the Lakes whose knowledge of 
the national music of Ireland is limited to " Jullien's quadrilles," and a few melodies 
married to the immortal verse of Moore ; but the wild, unearthly character of some of 
the finest airs renders them unsuited to English words ; and they are even yet in a 
great degree secreted among the glens and fastnesses of the wildest parts of the 
country, where those who would fain gather them have never gone. Be it remem- 
bered, Irish music was never the oftspring of fashion or caprice ; it was literally 
the voice of the people. Whether excited by joy, or sorrow, or love, or injustice, their 
feelings found vent in music : their grief for the dead was relieved by a dirge ; they 
roused their troops by song, and off'ered their prayers in chorus and chant : their music 
was poetry, and their poetry music. 




REMISING that the day must be a fine one, let it be commenced 
early ; for the Tom-ist who undertakes to follow us will have 
;, much to do ; so much, indeed, that — if it be all done — no 
after-evil of ill-weather can greatly diminish his power to 
become acquainted with the "Lions" of the Lakes; for 
when he has seen those we have named at the head of this chapter, the rest may be 
visited easily, inasmuch as they are accessible "between showers." * Let us start at 

* It is i>robable that during the drive the Tourist will have an opportunitj- of visiting one of the rustic schools, which 
have been for the most part disiilaced by the National Schools. Tliey are now rare, even in Kerrj'; l hey were called 
" Hedge Schools," because the boys usually studied under a hedge, the cabin of the schoolmaster being generally loo 
close and dark for the purpose. The " Poor Scholars " of Kerrj' have been long coleluated; they picked up knowledge 
when and where they could ; moving about from one school to another, and gathering English, Latin, and sometimes 
Greek, as they went, always free of charge. 



once, then. "We shall first go a mile out of our way to visit Aghadoe ; it is not in 
the direct road to the Gap, but is about two miles from Killarney Town. If not 
to-day, some time or other Aghadoe should certainly be visited, for the ruins are very 
interesting as well as venerable. They consist of the remnant of a round tower, the 
walls of a small cathedral church, and the base of a round castle, called sometimes 
"the Pulpit" and sometimes "the Bishop's Chair." The church is alow, oblong 
building, consisting of two distinct chapels of unequal antiquity.* The ornamented 

doorway, although much injured by time, is 
still graceful and beautiful. The graveyard is 
"neat and clean;" formerly it was in a dis- 
gi'aceful state, the relics of mortality being 
scattered everywhere about it ; they are shown 
in the engraving, but happily they will not now 
meet the eye of the visitor. 

The round castle stands at the hill side, 
within a square " bawn" or enclosure, fortified 
by a foss and earthen ramparts. It bears tokens 
of considerable strength ; the walls are seven 
feet high ; the height of the structure is now 
about thirty feet. It contains a flight of stone 
steps, formed in the thickness of the wall. The 
corbels that supported the timber joists, which 
formed the floor of the first chamber, still 
remain. It was evidently a small building, 
used, perhaps, merely as a defensive fortress to 
the church ; its age, probably, is not more remote 
than the twelfth century. 

The round tower, although a very small 
"""'^""" portion of it remains, cannot fail to be a sub- 

ject of deep interest to all strangers.f Let the Tourist climb to "the top," — the 
task is not a very difficult one, and see what a glorious view he will have of "the 
Lakes ; " a view, by the way, which most visitors prefer to any other within con- 
veiiient reach. 

Descending the hill, we continue the road along the northern borders of the lake 
until we reach the Laune Bridge, from which there is a fine view of the rapid 

* " Agliadoe continues to give title to a bishop. Amongst the Roman Catholics, the diocese is still preserved distinct ; 
but in the Established Church it ranks as a secondary one, attached to the see of Limerick." The remote antiquity of 
the Abbey is supported by reference to the Annals of Inisfallen, where it is emphatically styled the old Abbey, although 
the Abbey of Inisfallen was founded in the seventh century. 

The Ogham stone described by Vallencey, and referred to by Mr. Weld, as " in the north-west corner of the 
church, of Aghadoe," is now in the grounds of Aghadoe House. It was stolen from the chm-chyard by a Killarney 
butcher, to make a stoue for his " hall door; " and was luckily discovered in time to be rescued, although not before it 
was broken. 

t It stands sixty feet from theN.W. angle of the church, and is called " The Pulpit " by the peasantry. All that now 
remains of this ancient structure is the basement, reaching from the sill of tlie door downward. The height is about 
fifteen feet ; it measures in its outer circumference fifty-two feet ; the diameter within the walls is six feet ten inches ; 
the wall is four feet six inches thick. The stones are large, regular, and well-dressed. The greater part of the facing 
stone of the north side has been unfortunately taken away for the erection of tombs in the adjacent burying-ground. 
Within and without the spoiliator has been effectually at work, aided liy those worst of pests, the gold-seekers, whose 
unhallowed dreams are most fatal to our antiquities. 'I his tower must liave fallen previously to the last centiu'y ; but no 
notice of it in its erect state has sui-vived." — Windele. 


river, on both sides. "We drive through a very wild country, hilly and boggy, 
until we near the entrance to the Gap. A short distance before we reach it, the 
Tourist will be called upon to visit a singular cave : if he be an antiquary, he should 
on no account omit to examine it. It may be classed among the more remarkable 
objects of antiquity in Ireland. 

It is situated in a field immediately adjoining the high road ; and was discovered 
in 1838 by some workmen who, in constructing a sunk fence, broke into a subter- 
ranean chamber of a circular form, the walls of which were of uncemented stones 
inclining inwards, with a roof, also, of long transverse stones. In the passage were 
found several human skulls and bones.* 

This Cave of Dunloe must be regarded as an ancient Irish library, lately disinterred 
and restored to the light. The books are the large impost stones which form the 
roof. Their angles contain the writing. The discovery opens a new page concern- 
ing the hitherto tlisputed question touching the acquaintance of the ancient Irish with 
letters. The Ogham writing, as it is called, is stated to have been known and practised 
in Ireland long before the era of Christianity ; it is to the Irish antiquary what the 
Rimes are in the north, and the Arrow-headed or TFedge character is in Babylonia 
and Persepolis. It is more intelligible, however, than the latter, but far less 
known and elucidated than the former. As we have said, it has been a much 
disputed question amongst Irish writers ; and as, imtil a late period, it was nowhere 
found on monuments, there were not wanting persons disposed to treat the claims of 
its upholders with contempt, and to regard the character as the impostiu'e of idle 
bards and sennachies. The scale consists of four series of scores, each series embrac- 
ing five characters, and each letter ranging from one score to five. The position of 
these groups in reference to a main or medial line, called Fleasg, constitutes their 
power. It has been called the Craov or branch Ogham, because it has been assimi- 
lated to a tree ; the fleas^g answering to the trunk or stem, and the scores at either 
side, or passing through it horizontally, or diagonally, to the branches. On the 
majority of the monuments on which it has been found, the angle is availed of to 
foiTH the fleasg. On the Callan-stone, and on one other hitherto discovered, the 
medial line is cut on the centre of the stone. 

The scale originally consisted, and indeed properly does so still, of but sixteen 
letters. This must also be regarded as an additional proof of its high antiquity. 
Such was the Phenician, Pelasgic, Etruscan, and Celtiberian number. O'Halloran 
has given us the Ogham in its original extent. 



dtcaoue img 

* The entrance to the field wliich contains this singular assemblage, is by a gap near a small bridge which crosses the 
river Loe. To examine it, however, it will be necessai-y to mount a wall and tread through the wet grass — ditficulties 
which few Tourists will be inclincil to surmount, but which are capable of easy removal, and which ought to be removed. 
A short cut to the gap, however, divides the load where this marvel is to be seen. The field is closed up, "because" 
Tourists spoilt the bit of land. Mahoney, of Dunloe, is the landlord, and ought to direct his tenant to sacrifice the 
quarter of an acre. Moreover, anybody would gladly pay sixpence to see the cave. 


In subsequent ages it was corrupted or improved by the addition of compounds, 
diphth(M|(gs, and letters of foreign extraction, so that the present scale consists of 
twenty^ve primitive and compound characters. 

IIH II I l l lli'" " ^"^^/^/^^^^ ' 'I III nil mil X " a -^-^^^- 

b 1 f s n h d t c ar m g ng cr r a o u e i ea oi ui ia ao p 

The earliest written piece of Ogham writing, at present known, is in an ancient 
vellum MS. of the eleventh century, which had been at one time in the hands of Sir 
James Ware, and is now preserved in the British Museum. 

The very entrance to The Gap is a sudden introduction to its marvels ;* the visitor 
is at once convinced tbat he is about to visit a scene rarely paralleled for wild grandeur 
and stern magnificence ; the singular character of the deep ravine would seem to 
confirm the popular tradition that it was produced by a stroke of the sword of one of 
the giants of old, which divided the mountains, and left them apart for ever. Any- 
where, and under any circumstances, this rugged and gloomy pass would be a most 
striking object ; but its interest and importance are, no doubt, considerably enhanced 
by the position it occupies in the very centre of gentle and delicious beauty. The 
varied "greenery" of the pleasant glades that skirt the lakes, or line the banks of 
their tributary rivers, has hardly faded from the eye, before the bleak and barren 
rocks, of forms as varied and fantastic as they are numerous, are placed before it ; and 
the ear, in lieu of the mingled harmony of dancing leaves, and rippling waters, and 
song of birds, is compelled to listen only to the brawling and angry stream rushing 
onwards, wasting its strength in foam, but continually changing its form — here a 
creeping rivulet — there a broad lake — and there a fierce cataract. Along the banks 
of the river is a narrow, and, of course, circuitous path. On the right, the Reeks, 
with their grand-master, Carran Tuel, look down upon the dark glen : while on the 
left, Toomies and the Purple Mountain rise above it, and with a more gracious coun- 
tenance ; for their sides are not so steep but that the goat finds sure footing and 
pleasant pasture ; and the cow — if it be Kerry born — may also wander and ruminate 

* As 3'ou approach the Gap, you will be arrested by some of the thousand and one women, boys, and girls, who will 
gather like a rolling snow-ball as you proceed. 'Ihey wUl try to tempt you with goat's-milk and " mountain dew ; " but 
some of them will offer you stockings of their own knitting; in all waj's they will try to wile the visitor out of halfpence 
— with a good supply of which he should therefoi'e be provided. A poor blind man will meet you, and solicit something 
for a tune on his fiddle ; and here and there men with small cannon will expect you to excliange a sixpence for a shot ; a 
good bugler is always in the Gap, and will accompany any Tourist through it. Just before you reacli the glen you will 
be asked to visit the cabin of Kate Kearney, w-ho will invite you to drink "goat's-milk and — something warmer," and 
farther in, just where you leave tlie carriage and take the ponies, is a slated house, where a man, Tim Connor, has a 
small public. About the centre of the Gap is a " nate Cabin," at which a poor woman will be found busy netting ladies' 
collars, or working bed-quilts. Dear lady visitors, see and help her, for God has afflicted her so that she cannot walk, 
although she can work. This immediate locality is said to be the scene of a remarkable description in Gerald Griffin's 
novel of "The Collegians." 

Something more than a line, however, seems to be demanded by Kate Kearney — a name famous in song. The 
tourist will pass the dwelUng of the grand-daugliter of that Kate Kearney, who — we care not to say how many years 
ago— inspired the muse of Miss Owenson— Sydney, Lady Morgan : — 

" Oh I did ye ne'er hear of Kate Kearney ? 
She lives "by the Lake of Killarney." 

The grand-daughter— herself the mamma of a fine family, Irish in number and in growth — is not unworthy the high fame 
of lier grand-dame. She is wliat in Ireland is called "a "fine fla-hu-lagh woman," — meaning that she lias " blood and 
bone," but as for the "beauty " — we shall not be ungallant enougli to question her legitimate right. The Tourist will find 
cakes and goat's-milk at her collage, which neatness and order miglit very much improve. The cottage is close to the 
entrance to the Gap of Dunloe, so that he will be sure to see her: for he may be quite certain that she will be at hand 
with her — " offerings." 



at leisure. The road, or rather hridle track (the pony that treads it must not be a 
stranger), often passes along the brinks of precipices, and then descends into absolute 
pits ; the roar of the rushing ton-ent is heard plainly all the while — now and then in 
the depths below, and now and then as a talkative and warning guide by the side of 


the wayfarer. The dark stream is the Loe ; and in its limited course through the Gap 
it expands at several points into lakes of various and unequal magnitude, and again 
contracts itself to gather force for a new rush through the valley. The rocks along 
the pass are of forms the most grotesque ; and each has received some distinguishing 
name from the peasantry.* The one we have pictured is called "The Turnpike." 
Soon after passing the Turnpike, the wildest part of the Gap is reached ; and not far 
off, the ear is suddenly arrested by a "concord of sweet sounds" produced by the 
water gurgling through a subterranean channel, on its way to the " serpent lake " — 
but it will be easy to discern the winding channel, rendered black by its depth, and 
marked out by the green water-plants that grow underneath the water beside it. 
Although the mountains on either side are for the most part bare, they present 
occasionally patches of cultivation, " few and far between ; " but sufficient to show 
that even in this savage region the hand of industry may be employed with 

* One of them is christened, from its singular shape, " O'Donoghua's Heart." The guide maj- perhaps tell you tliat 
though everj-bodj' knew his heart was a big one, they never thought it was so hard. One of them is the Serpent's 
Lake ; it obtains its name, according to John Spillane, from an obrious cause — a serpentine channel that conveys the 
river into it, and when under water, the black mark assumes the form of a seqieut. 


advantage. From some crevices peep out the gay evergreens — high up, and often 
so far distant that the eye cannot distinguish the arbutus from the prickly furze. 
Occasionally, too, the deep gloom of the pass is dispelled by the notes of Spillane's 
bugle — waking the echoes of the mighty hills ; and now and then the eagle soars 
above the valley. Still it would be impossible for the very lightest-hearted to be 
otherwise than sad while passing through this dark and deep ravine ; it oppresses 
the spirits with exceeding melancholy. Yet it has its own peculiar sources of pleasure. 


"When the Pass terminates, and the Tourist is, as will be supposed, wearied in 
heart and foot, he suddenly comes upon a scene of unrivalled beauty. A turning in 
the narrow pathway brings him just over the Upper Lake ; and high above " the 
black valley" — the Coom Dhuv. The reader will obtain, from the pencil of Mr. 
Creswick, a happier notion of the excitement produced by the change, than our 
language can give him. It was with an uncontrollable burst of enjoyment that we 
gazed upon the delicious scene. On the side of a lofty hill is the "Logan Stone" 
— about twenty -four feet in circumference. The peasants call it the "Balance 
Eock," and it is doubtless a druidical remain of remote antiquity. Moore likens it to 
the poet's heart which — 

" The slightest touch alone sets moving, 
But all earth's power could not shake from its base." 

Prom near this stone (to be reached by a by-path, and with some caution in 
treading over the moss and bog) a most magnificent view is to be obtained of the 
Upper Lake on the one side, and of the whole of Coom Dhuv on the other. Spillanc 
knows the spot well where the prospect is the grandest and most beautiful ; and 
moreover, he knows the safest path by which it is to be reached : it is a " short cut," 
that is to say, " the longest way round ; " but the detour will be rich in compensation 
for the labour. 



From the black valley are seen the back of the Reeks, and a footpath, very 
nigcfcd and almost inaccessible, leading to Carran Tuel. A fall from the neighbouring 
mountains supplies three small lakes, and then runs into the River Gakameex, crossed 
by a foot bridge, and so, running to Brandon's cottage, joins the Upper Lake. 


Leaving "the Black Yalley," the Tourist passes through "Lord Brandon's 
demesne;"* and having found his boat waiting in one of the sweet and lonely 
creeks of which there are here so many, he takes his seat, and prepares for pleasure 
of a less fatiguing character — the oars rapidly convey him through the Upper Lake. 

And now let him look leisurely around him. He is in the midst of mountains — 
bleak and ban-en, but mighty in their magnificence. f 

" Abrupt and sheer the mountains fink 
At once upon the level brink, 
And just a trace of silver sand 
Marks where the water meets the land." 

Their dark shadows arc thrown upon the water, so as to give it a character of 
gloom, in perfect keeping with the loneliness of the scene. One feels as if the sound 
of a human voice would disturb its solitude : and wishes the oars that row him over 

* Lord Brandon, who built a cottage here, and also an imitation of the Bound Tower, has long ceased to own any 
property in the neichbourhood. The place, however, still bears his name. 

t " To my mimV," says Inglis, '• the Upper Lake is the most attractive; the mountains are nearest to it ; it has not 
one tame feature." "Once fairly embarked on its waters," writes Windele, " aud looking back, the illusion of its being 
altugeiher landlocked, and enclosed without any opening, or mode of egress, seems nearly complete." '• On entering the 
Upper Lake " (we quote from Weld), " attention is at fu-st wholly engaged by the vastness of the mountains, and next 
by the extieme ruggcdness of the scene." 



the Lake were muffled. He passes along by the small islands : neither of them 
tempt him to land, unless it may be Rossburkie, to look for the tree round which the 
milkmaid tied the spancel."^'' Here are Arbutus Island, Eagle Island, M'Carthy's 
Island (covered from base to summit with the arbutus, and singularly graceful in 
form and character), Duck Island, Stag Island, Eonan's Island, and the Knight of 
Kerry's Island. f "VVe must refer him to the guide for the origin, real or fanciful, of 
each name. That called after the heir of the Kerry Geraldines we believe actually 
belongs to him, although he has no other acre of property in this neighbourhood. 

Passing the " big " promontory called " Coleman's Eve," — and so named after a 
giant, a saint, or an English gentleman — it is uncertain which — he enters " The 
Long Range." Rut before he arrives there, he will often look back. The mountains, 
between which lies the " Gap," are directly behind him ; to the left are the " tails " 
of the Purple mountain ; to the right is rugged Cromagioun ; all about him the 
mountains rise from the lake, and seem as if they would shut him ia for ever. To 
convey an idea of the rude magnificence of this scene is impossible. Presently its 
savage grandeur is passed; and we enter the realm of Reauty. The stream carries us 
rapidly homeward. It is running through the Long Range; and the men have merely 
to guide the boat, j' 

The channel is charming and full of interest ; the water is clear and rapid ; and 
on either side it is amply wooded, " patrician trees " happily mingling with "plebeian 
underwood," through which glimpses of the huge mountains are occasionally caught. 
Enormous water-lotus, white and yellow, throng both sides of the stream, and giant 
ferns spring up from every square foot that is not rock-covered, sometimes out of 
crevices in the rock itself; here and there you may pull a branch that would shelter 
you from a shower. About midway, in "the Long Range," we reach the far-famed 
Eagle's ISTest — the most perfect, glorious, and exciting of all the Killarney echoes. The 
rock (for in comparison with mountains that look down upon it, it is nothing more 
although, when at its base, it appears of prodigious height) derives its name from the 
fact that, for centuries, it was the favoured residence of the royal birds, their eyry being 

* "She was milking the cows .just as the sun was rising. A fine early little girl she was, rowing her boat and her 
pails with her own hands to the Island, before the dew was off tlie gi'ass, or the birds awake, and singing — for she had a 
light heart, singing lilce a thrush; when allot a sadden, as she turned her head, what should she see but a crock of 
shining gold, under a tree, just at her elbow. Keeping lier eyes on it, she walked over, stooped down, and, to make 
sure that what she saw, poor thing, was no bewitchment, she took up two of the pieces, and dropped them into her 
bosom : she tried to lift the crock, but it was too heavy tor her entirely : so to make sure of the spot she took the 
spancel off the cow she was milking, and tied it round the tree, then ran off to her boat, determined to bring her friends 
to help her home with her treasure ; the last thing she did when she took up the oars to row to the mainland was to look 
back at the crock, and there it was — the dehidher — smiling and shining in the sunbeams. Well, when she got home she 
told what she had seen, and one looked at the other, until she gave her mother the two gold pieces ; and then father and 
mother, and brothers and sisters, all crowded into the boat, and maybe they didn't pull hard and fast to reach the 
Island. ' There's the spancel ! ' shouted the girl, pointing to the nearest tree ; ' there's the spancel ! ' and sure enough 
there was a spancel. ' No,' said her brother, ' there's the spancel.' ' Not at all ! ' exclaimed her mother, ' it's on that 
tree.' 'I wish,' put in her father, ' that j'ou'd all hold your nonsense, here it is round the rowan-tree.' The poor gold- 
tinder looked bewildered; and well she might, for round every tree in the island a spancel was fastened. Then she 
asked her mother to show the two gold pieces she had given her, and the poor woman jniUed them out, and laid them on 
the palm of her hand, that they might all see them : but in less than a minute, wliile their very eyes were on them, they 
were changed into dry leaves, and whirled off her hand by a light breeze ; while from every tree in the Island rose a 
laugh so merry and so full of fun and mischief, they could hardly help laughing themselves." 

t There are about twelve isl.inds in the Upper Lake ; some of them, however, are islands only in summer. Eonan's 
Island is the largest. It was so called, according to Mr. Weld, from an enthusiastic Englishman, who, " liking the 
situation," made it liis home, and lived for some years the life of a recluse here, avoiding all society, and seldom leaving 
the island, except to shoot or fish, by which he prociu-ed his chief sustenance. There are no remains of a house. 

X Sails are verj' rarely seen on the Lake. They are at all times dangerous, in consequence of the frequent occurrence 
of wind and squalls. 

THE eagle's nest 


secured by nature against all human trespassers. '^' The rock is of a pp-amidal form, 
exactly 1,103 feet high, thickly clothed with evergreens, but bare towards the summit, 
where the nest of the bird is pointed out, in a small crevice nearly concealed by stunted 


shrubs. AYc put into a little creek on the opposite side of the river; but remained in our 

* The peasants relate several amusing stones of attempts to rob the " Aigle's Nest ; " and many feats are detailed of 
the efforts of daring mountaineers to make property of the royal progeny. The boatmen tell an illustrative anecdote of 
a " vagabone ", " who says, says he, ■ I'll go" bail I'll rob it,' says he. ' Maybe you will, and maybe you won't,' 
says the aigle ; and with that she purtinded to tiy off wid herself. So the sodger, when he sees that, lets himself down 
by a long npe he had with him; and, • I have ye now by your sharp noses, every mother's son of ye,' says he. When 
all of a sudden out conies the ould aigle, from a thunder cloud, and says veiy civilly, says she. • Good morrow, sir,' 
sa s she; "and what brings ye to visit my fine family so airly, before they've had their break'a^t?' says she. 'Oh, 
nothing at idl,' says the sodger, who ye see was gratcly frightened ; ' only to ax after their health, ma'am,' says he, « and 

L'r a one of em ha: 
brought some blai" 

i the tooth-ache, for which I have a spacific that I brought wid me in my pocket from furrin iiaits.' 
rucy iu the other pocket then,' says tlie aigle ; 'for don't I know ye came to stale mee childre?' 



boat, having been recommended to do so. Our expectations of the coming treat had been 
liighly raised, and we were in breathless anxiety to enjoy it. The bugle-player, 
SpiKane, landed, advanced a few steps, and placed the instrument to his lips : the 


effect was magical — that is a poor word to convoy an idea. First he played a 
single note — it was caught up and repeated, loudly, softly — again loudly, again 
softly, and then as if by a hundred instruments, each a thousand times more 
musical than that which gave its rivals birth, twirling and twisting around the 
mountain, running up from its foot to its summit, then "rolling above it, and at 
length dying away in the distance until it was heard as a mere whisper, barely 
audible, far away. Then Spillane blew a few notes — ti-ra-la-ti-ra-la : a multitude of 
voices, seemingly from a multitude of hills, at once sent forth a reply, sometimes 
pausing for a second, as if waiting for some tardy comrade to join in the marvellous 
chorus, then mingling together in a strain of sublime grandeur, and delicate sweet- 
ness, utterly indescribable. Again Spillane sent forth his summons to the mountains, 
and blew, for perhaps a minute, a variety of sounds ; the eifect was indeed that of 
"■ enchanting ravishment " — giving 

" Eesouudiug grace to all Heaven's harmonies." 

It is impossible for language to convey even a remote idea of the exceeding 
delight communicated by this development of a most wonderful property of Nature: 
sure we are that we shall be guilty of no exaggeration if we say that this single 
incident, among so many of vast attraction, will be suflS.cii nt recompense to the 
Tourist who may visit these beautiful lakes. When Spillane hud exhausted his ability 

' Honour bright,' says the sodger, ' do ye think I'd be doing such a mane thing! ' 'I'U lave it to a neighbour o' mine 
whetlier ye did or no,' says the aigle. So wid that, she bavi'ls out at the top of her voice, 'Did lie come to rob the aigle's 
nest ? ' In coorse the echo made answer, ' To rob the aigle's nest.' — ' Hear to that, ye tliief ! ' says the aigle ; ' and take 
tliat home wid ye,' giving him a stroke wid her bake belune the two eyes, and sent liim rowling into the lake— and I'U 
go bail none of his progenitors ever went to rob an aigle's uest alter that day." 


to minister to our enjoyment — and the day was declining before we had expressed 
ourselves content — preparations were made for firing off the cannon. As soon as they 
were completed, the match was applied. In an instant every mountain for miles 
round us seemed instinct with angry life, and replied in voices of thunder to the insig- 
nificant and miserable sound that had roused them. The imagination was excited 
to absolute terror : the gnomes of the mountains were about to issue forth and punish 
the mortals who had dared to rouse them from their solitude ; and it was easy for a 
moment to fancy every creek and crevice peopled with "airy things." The sound 
was multiplied a thousandfold, and with infinite variety ; at first it was repeated with 
a terrific growl ; then a fearful cra'^h ; both were caught up and returned by the 
surrounding hills, mingling together, now in solemn harmony, now in utter dis- 
cordance ; awhile those that were nearest became silent, awaiting those that were 
distant — the echoes of echoes ; then joining together in one mighty sound, louder and 
louder ; then dropping to a gentle lull, as if the winds only gave them life ; then 
breaking forth again into a combined roar that would seem to have been heard hundreds 
of miles away.->' It is not only by these louder sounds the echoes of the hills are 
awakened ; the clapping of a hand will call them forth ; almost a whisper will be 
repeated — far off — ceasing — resuming — ceasing again. The most eloquent j)oet of our 
age has happily expressed the idea we desire to convey : — 

" A solitarj' ■wolf-dog, ranging on 
Through the bleak concave, wakes this wondrous chime 

Of aii-j' voices lock'd in unison, — 
Faint — far off- near— deep — solemn and sublime." 

Yes, good reader ; if yoxx had but this one recompense of your visit to Killarney, it 
would suffice. 

About a mile from the " Eagle's Nest " f is the old Weir Bridge, abridge of two 
arches, only one of which affords a passage for boats, and through this the water of 
the Upper Lake rushes into the other lakes on its way, through the Lauue to the sea. 
The current is exceedingly rapid, and it is usual for Toiuists to disembark and walk 
across the isthmus, meeting the boat on the other side, the passage being considered 
one of danger to persons who are either easily alarmed or indisposed to take the advice of 
the boatmen — " Plase to sit quiet." Our lielmsman was, however, anxious to try the 
strength of our nerves, as well as to exhibit one of the Killarney lions in its wrath 
and power, shaking its mane in angry vigour ; he, therefore, gave us no warning 

* " We gazed at the wood, the rock, aud the river, with alternate hope and fear ; and we expected with a pleasing 

impatience some veiy marvellous event Angels from the sky, or faiiies from the mountain, or O'Donoghue 

from the river, we every moment expected to appear before us." — Ockenden (1760). " Our single French horn had the 
liannony of a full concert, and one discharge of our little piece of cannon was multiplied into a thousand reports ; with 
this iulditiun, that when the sounds seemed faint, aud almost expiiing, they revived again, and then gradually subsided. It 
ccpials the most tremendous thimder." — Dehuick (176u). "Each explosion awakes a succession of echoes resembling 
peals of tliunder, varying in niuuber and intensity according to the state of the atmosphere." — Windele. "Oui- 
iaia^diiatiiiu endues tlie mountains with life, and to their attributes of magnitude, and silence, and solitude, we for a 
mnniciit add the power of listening and a voice." — INGLIS. " Tlie mountains seem bursting with the crash — now it roUs, 
peal upon (leal, thrcju^di their craggy hollows, till at length, dying away in the distance, all seems over; hark! it rises 
again ; other luouutanis mimic llie thunder, and now it is lost in a low growl amung the distant hills." — Croker. " It 
is scared}' in the power of language to convey an idea of the extraordinary effect of the echoes under tliis cliff, whether 
they repeat the dulcet notes of music, or the loud discordant report of a cannou. Enchantment here appears to have 
resumed her reign, and those who listen are lost in amazement and delight." — Wei.d. 

t A good and iiidu-'ttious girl, Debby (Deborah) Coimor, will be invariably found located on the small island opposite 
this rock. She is seen busily at work, and does great gond ui'h her " ainiings," maintaining her mother and more than 
one of " her people." She makes neck chains iif plaited Imrseliair, and hulf-a-crown will be well laid out at her " establish- 
ment" — her lap — by thus procuring a reminder of Killai-uey, and the most beautiful of aU its beautiful scenes. 



until we were actually within the fierce current. We shot through it with frightful 
rapidity ; and it seemed that a very small deviation either to the right or the left 
would have flung us among the hreakers, the result of which must inevitahlv have 


heen fatal. The men, who had rested on their oars, were watching us with some 
anxiety, and the moment we were in safety they woke the echoes with a loud shout, 
and congratulated us on our "bowldness." We can claim but little merit for our 
heroism ; for, in reality, there is no peril in the " voyage: " and we had forgotten the 
disasters that Mr. Weld records, and to which Derrick made reference half a century 
before him. 

At Dinis Pool the current divides ; one branch, to the right, enters Toec La^ke ; 
the other, to the left, runs between Dinis Island and Glena Mountain, and joins the 
Lower Lake at the Hay of Glena..* 

* In Dinis Pool, at a particular point, the vit-itor's attention is an-ested by the boatmen ceasing to pull, and 13'ing 
on their oars; and on asking the reason why, theii' touching answer is, "Sure you would not have us distiub poor Ned 
MacCarthy's grave ! " 

" Where weeping birches wildly wave 
The boalmen show tlieir brother's grave ; 
And while they tell Ihe name he liore. 
Suspended hangs the lifted oar." — Lover. 



ToRC Lake should be more visited than it is ; the rocks here are the most beautiful 
anywliere, and are perforated in all possible ways. There is but one island — The 
Devil's Islaxd. There are otters in the Devil's Island. A cave of some length is 
called the Whiskey Cellar ; and there, at the end, is O'Donoghue's arm-chair : his 
butler is close hy Jacky Boy's Bay. Here also is O'Donoghue's wine-cellar. In fact, 

THii llJl, . jj. S laLAND. 

a row round Tore Lake may be a rare treat for a long summer evening ; landing 
occasionally, to walk among the woods of Mucross, but more especially with a view 
to examine the singular formations of the limestone rocks. The lake is usually 
calmer than its sister lakes ; the surrounding shores are high, and on one side it is 
completely overlooked by mountains. Hereabouts, as well as at Glena and in the 
Long Range, the ferns gi'ow to enormous size, and in profuse luxuriance. There are, 
indeed, many who will think the Tore Lake more attractive than either the Upper or 
the Lower. 

In 1861 the Queen christened a rock in Tore Lake. It now bears the mark, 
" A'^rcTORiA, August 28, 1861." Heartily we hope that Her Majesty will again visit 
Ireland, and again gladden the hearts of her loyal and loving subjects there. 



But we have yet a word to say concerning Glena. There is, we think, nothing 
at Killarney, where nature is everywhere charming to absolute fascination, equal 
to this surpassingly lovely spot — beautiful Glena. The mountain of Glena, clothed 
to luxuiiance with the richest evergreens, looks down upon a little vale endowed 
with the rarest natural gifts, and which the hand of taste has touched here and 
there, without impairing its primitive character. Glena, a name that signifies 
"The glen of good fortune," is the property of Lord Kenmare, whose lady has 


built a cottage-oruee in this delicious valley ; it is in happy keeping with the 
beautiful and graceful scene, and the walks and gardens that surround it are so 
formed and disposed as in no degree to deduct from its simple beauty. Here, also, 
a pretty and convenient cottage has been erected for the accommodation of strangers : 
it is placed in one of the forest glades, close to the shore. Here we rested awhile ; 
enjoyed a plentiful dinner, which Mr. Goodman had prepared for us ; and here O'Leary 
*' played the pipes," while Jerry Clifford danced a jig with a pretty colleen. The 
day was fine, and it was indeed a happy day — a day to remember as long as we 

We had with us on that delicious day a pleasant companion and a kind and sympa- 
thising friend — who has since left earth. He thoroughly enjoyed the scene, his 
generous nature entering fully into the spirit of tranquil happiness it inspired. His 
name is in no way known to fame, and we do not here give it record. But his spirit 
will accept this loving tribute to his memory, and it will surely be with us when we 
again visit beautiful Killarney. 

* Persons are in charge of Glena. -whose business it is to provide accommodation for strangers, which they do in a 
manner entirely satisfactory. O'Leary, the piper, will play any famous Irish fiir, and gratify the stranger by that which 
may, at all events, be a novelty. The chances are that a meriy Irish girl— the maid-of-all-work to the visitors— will be 
there also; and, if so, be sure you can see an Irish jig, for there is little doubt that one of the boatmen will call for 
" Green grow the rushes, ! " and the effect will be irresistible. A dance is as certain to follow it as a bugle sound 
when you round the corner at parting from beautiful Glena. 





^mW, ©AF ®F ]D)TIJM3L( 





Here, then, let us end onr Third Day's Tour. For although, probably, those who 
must make the most of time may even yet be enabled before nightfall to row round 
Tore Lake, among the island rocks in Castle Lough Bay, and even to enter and 
examine, briefly, Inisfallen and Ross — we trust that comparatively few will be com- 
pelled to crush two days into one, and consequently sacrifice to fatigue the enjoyment 
that may be derived from both. 

!Now, then, we are journeying homewards — homewards from Glena, beautiful 
Glena ! Its "Bay" is among the very loveliest things about Killarney.* It is "a 


good step" to either of the inns. But stay, the boatmen may not yet "pull out," 
for Spillane must have a word or two with Glena — his "pet" of all the mountains! 
Who could weary of such words, so answered ? To Spillane, who has awakened them 
a thousand times, it is still a labour of love ; and the boatmen, to whom the aerial 
voices are familiar as domestic sounds, gladly rest upon their oars to hear them once 
again ! 

And now, surely we shall have seen enough of the lakes, and mountains, and 
rivers, and valleys for to-day, to render repose a luxm-y. We have intimated our 
belief that the comparative quiet of the grounds about The Eulway Hotel will 
produce that "calming" effect which is true pleasure after excitement; but those 
who seek amusement when evening has closed in will find it here : some of the 

* In Glena Baj', a lif tie point of rock juts out ; the boatmen and guides " christened " it with the usual " ceremonies," 
and called it " Mrs. Hall's Point :" it commemorates oiu- latest visit— on the 28th June, 1864, and pleasantly associates 
our memory with the locality we dearly love. 




visitors will perhaps look over the photographs, or "bog oak ornaments," that will be 
submitted to them in great variety ; others will gossip with the guide concerning 
what they have seen and what they have yet to see ; others will arrange plans for 
to-morrow's excursion ; others may arrange a day's fishing on the lake, and compare 
their choice London flies with the comparatively rude imitations that are far more 
likely to bring trout to the hook. 

But when the day is over, let it not be forgotten that the Islands of the Lower 
Lake are to be visited : and that a rare treat awaits the Tourist from this fertile 
source ; for the shores as well as the islands are full of interest ; and he will '* voyage" 
to the entrance to The Eivek Laune, where scenery will await him of a different 
order from any he has yet examined. 

Good reader, let us hope the day will be "calm and sweet and bright;" for 
umbrellas are unseemly objects, even in a boat. 

"V^ fif ^ ""^^ 



This day we spend among the islands and along the 

shores of the Lower Lake ; taking a row round Tore ; 

awakening the echoes of the old mountain ; and, resting 

the oars off many a well-known spot, holding converse 

with far-famed ""Paddy Blaeje." The labour of to-dny 

will not be severe ; the remainder of our tour about 

Ivillarn(>y we can make easily, and by " short stages." 

Indeed, tourists whose time is limited may, when 

-i -ijr*-^-:- the third day closes in, consider the Lakes to have 

been visited, and prepare for a journey homewards or 

elsewhere. But many, we hope, will be less hurried, and will give a whole day 

to the "Shores and Islands." If at '« Cloghrecn," or at the "Lake Hotel," the 


Tourist should first row among the small island-rocks in Casile-Lough Bat, the bay 
in which he will enter the boat, and be consigned to the care of four as civil 
and obliging " Kerry-boys" as ever told a legend — or believed one. All about him 
are odd-looking rocks and pretty islets ; some so bare that not a blade of gi^ass grows 
over them ; others so thick with foliage, that, literally, you see nothing but a clump 
of trees rising out of the water, and sometimes little more than the topmost branches 
of these very trees are visible. There are in this Castle-Lough Bay just "a baker's 
dozen," and very pretty they look ; but there is not one of them that will recompense 
a landing. At Castle-Lough, however, we must pause a moment. The castle perished 
in the wars of 1652. So completely was it destroyed, that scarcely one stone was 
left standing on another. Barely sufficient now remains to point out its locality. It 
may have been of importance, from its position, but never could have been of any 
extent. North of Castle-Lough Bay the Flesk runs into the lake, passing by the 
groiinds of Cahimane. It has voyaged a long way, to help the waters at Killarney. 

Those who are located at the Victoria will probably proceed to visit the island by 
a different course ; for the boat-house of the hotel lies about a mile almost due north 
of the Bay. There is, however, a road from the Victoria through the island. And 
from the Railway Hotel there 'is a road that leads direct to the castle, where boats 
are usually taken by those who are located at that hotel.^' 

Here, then, at Ross Island, and immediately under Ross Castle, let us embark 
at the convenient quay built by Lord Kcnmare. Before we look at the old castle, 
let us walk through the gardens and round the island ; but — will the visitor believe us? — 
he will have paced no less than two miles before he arrives at this garden-gate again. f 

Ross is more properly a peninsula than an island, being separated from the main 
land only by a narrow cut through a morass, which it is more than probable was 
a work of art, with a view to strengthen the fortifications of the castle. The island, 
for so it must now be termed, is the largest island of the lake. It contains about eighty 
plantation acres, richly and luxuriantly cultivated ; a portion of it is converted into 

* Here is a list of all the rocks and islands in the Lower Lake, beginning with the most northerly, Brown or Rabbit 
Island, and so descending to the most southerly, Sugar Island : the reader will of course ascertain their relative positions 
by looking at the map. 

9. Rough Island. 

10. Hen and Chickens. 

11. Pigeon Island. 

12. O'Bonoghues Table. 

13. Cow Island. 

14. Elephant Rock. 

15. .Tackdaw Island. 

16. Crow Island. 

17. Yew Island. 

18. Ash Island. 

Another island has been lately added — by name — to tlie list : it is " The Prince's Island," which we have therefore marked 
as No. 26. It is nothing but a rock; but sen'es to commemorate the visit of the Prince of Wales in 18.58. It was intended 
to re-christen the Mouse Island -one of the prettiest of the group— and to' bestow upon it that honour: but his Royal 
Highness protested against depriving it of its time-honoured and veiy appropriate name; allhough he expressed himself 
content that his memory should be associated with the rock, which until then had really no distinguishing mai"k, although 
it had been usually called the Gun Rock. 

There are about half a dozen others that have names ; such as Gunnet Rock, Tom Cole's Rock, Currig-a-hocca Rock, 
and Alexander Rock. Brickcen Island and Dinis Island stand between Tore Lake and the Lower Lake; they belong 
properly to neither of the two lakes ; but if to either they must be assigned, we should give them to Tore, as being the 
property of Mr. Herbert. 

t It is just under Ross Castle that " Paddj' Blake '' must be talked to : Paddy Blake, the famous Echo, that, when you 
ask him, " How d'ye do, Paddy Blake ?" makes instant answer, " Pretty well', I thank ye." At certain times it is the 
clearest of all the lake echoes. 

1. Brown or Rabbit Island. 

2. Lamb Island. 

3. Heron Island. 

4. O'Donoghue's Prison. 

5. Cherry Island. 

6. Inisfallen. 

7. Mouse Island. 

8. Ross Island. 

(AU north of Ross Bay.) 

19. OspreyRock. 

20. Friar's Island. 

(All in Castle Lough Baj'.) 

21. Otter Rock. 

22. Darby's Garden. 

23. Burnt Island. 

24. Stag Island. 

2.5. Drinking Horse. 
26. The Prince's Island. 



a graceful and carefully kept flower-garden, where seats are placed so as to command 
the more striking and picturesque views ; and in every part, Nature has been so 
judiciously trained and guided, that the whole scene is one of surpassing beauty. 
The castle is a fine ruin ; much less 
injured by time than the majority 
of its co-mates in Kerry county. It 
is a tall, square, embattled building, 
based upon a limestone rock, sus- 
tained at the land side by a plain 
massive buttress ; from the north- 
east and north-west angles project 
two machicolated defences. It 
contains a spiral staircase of cut 
stone. It was erected by one of 
the earlier chieftains of the Dono- 
ghues.* It forms a conspicuous 
feature in the landscape from every 
part of the Lower Lake. During 
the war, the outbuildings were fitted 
up as a barrack. j- The castle is 
famous in Irish history as being 
the last in Munster to hold out 
against the Parliamentary army. In 
1652, Ludlow, the successor of Ire- 
ton, assisted by Sir Hardress Waller, 
laid siege to it. It was defended by Lord Muskcrry with a sufficiency of troops, and an 
ample supply of provisions ; yet the castle, so well prepared for defence, surrendered 
upon articles, without striking a vigorous blow. The circumstance is attributable to the 
terror that seized upon the garrison when they beheld war-ships floating on the lake, 
in fulfilment of an ancient prophecy, which foretold that the castle could be taken 
only when an event occurred almost as improbable as that " Birnam Wood" should 


* Of course the several legends connected with the name of the O'Donoshne have their source in this, his castle of 
Ross. The peasantry will point out the window from which he leaped into the lake when he exchanrred his sovereignity 
on earth for that of the waters under it. He was endowed, they say, with the gift of transforming himself into any 
shape, and his wife requested him to exhibit some of his transformations before her. He warned her that if he did so, 
and she displayed any symptoms of fear, they would be separated for ever. She still persisted, in the spirit of female 
curiosity, and in perfect confidence that she could look on unmoved. On his assuming, however, some verj' terrible 
sha|ie, she shrieked with terror. He immediately sprang from the window into the lake below, and remains there an 
enchanted spirit ; his enchantment to continue until, by his brief annual ride, his silver shoes are worn out by the attrition 
of the surface of the water. Of the race of the O'Donoghues, "the Annals of Inisfallen " have furnished various 
jiarticulars, which give a pretty clear insight into the character of gone-by times, when "might made right," and illus- 
trate the utter insecurity of life and property,that kept the "petty kings" always armed lestthe stronger should come and 
strip them. From the year 1024 to 1238, of the " Kings of Loclia Lein," nineteen out of twenty were " slain ;" some in 
open fight, some by treachery, and some having been previously driven out of their territories. The last item in the 
dismal account stands thus: — " Jeoffery O'l'onoghue, and Saova, daughter of Douchad Cairbreach O'Brien, his wife, as 
also his brother and his three sons, burned in his house at the garden of the Grcenford, by Finecn jVI'Donnell Gud, being 
betrayed by his own huntsman." Among the "fierce leaders of battles," nevertheless, there were a few distinguished as 
" gentle at arms;'' and some who " never forsook the muse." This list, however, which gives so dark a picture of the 
ape, refers to the O'Donoghue of the Glens, and not to the ancestors of the spirit chieftain. Yet the milder branch has 
aUogether withered and vanished; wliile of the "turbulent," "the ruthless,' the "proud and stern in battle," the 
representative still exists. 

t While a barrack Colonel Hall was quartered there with the staff of his regiment; and in one of the rooms a sou was 
born to him m 1798. 

come " to Dunsinane." Although it is very unlikely that Ludlow liad heard of this 
tradition, or would have heeded it if he had, it is certain that, having considered it 
wisest to attack the castle hy water, he had constructed boats for the purpose; "and," 
as he says, "when we had received our boats, each of which was capable of containing 
one hundred and twenty men, I ordered one of them to be rowed about, in order to 
find out the most convenient place for landing upon the enemy, which they perceiving, 
thought fit, by a timely submission, to prevent the danger that threatened them." 
General Ludlow does not explain how the boats were conveyed into the lakes ; and 
so great must have been the difl&culty of transporting them from any distant part, 
covered as this district of Ireland then was with bog and forests, that the boat has 
been generally considered to have been nothing more than a raft. An accident 
enabled us to remove all doubts on the subject. 

In the wall of the ancient church of St. Multose, at Kinsale, we discovered an old 
tomb, partly concealed by rubbish ; and learned that this division of the structure 
had, until very lately, been blocked up by heaps of stone and mortar. The inscrip- 
tion on a wooden panel, almost rotted away, and fixed immediately over the grave, was 
in Latin. The word "Kerria" excited our curiosity; and, on clearing the stone, we 
were amply rewarded for our labour.'^' 

As we have observed, from all parts of the lake, and from every one of the 
adjacent mountains, the Castle of Ross is a most interesting and attractive point in 
the scenery, and it amply repays the honour it receives by enabling the visitor to 
obtain, from the summit of its tower, a commanding view of every important object 
by which it is surrounded. An hour passed in walking round the island will be an 
hour pleasantly and profitably spent ; and curiosity may be gratified by inspecting 
the surface of the famous copper mine, the debris of which is scattered in profusion 
upon the western shore ; among them are several huge portions of a steam-engine— 
the first, we believe, ever introduced into Ireland. When opened by Colonel Hall in 
1804, he obtained unequivocal proof that they had been worked previously; but at a 
period very remote, and when mining, as an art, was utterly unknown. f 

* The following is a translation of the epitaph — 

" Here with his father, lies Thomas, bj^ surname Chudleigh, 
For the kings of the English both built ships. 
The father's skill was uncommon : alas ! alas! his life was short, 
He caused a ship to sail on the land ; 
Tliat the ship did sail on the land Ken-y well knows, 
The tower of Ross taken with ditficulty proves. 
Proceed, Muse, I u-nplore ; study to sing the praises of the son. 
He was very ingenious, skilled in the same art. 
He built a ship for the King to which Kinsale gives a name 
He built, but to another great praise was given ; 
He built this, I say, reader, though another bore away the honours. 
Thus, for another, not for itself, the vine affords sweet grapes ; 
Tims, for another, not for himself, the horse bears heavy burdens; 
Thus, for another, not for himself, the dog courses over the plains ; 
Thus, for another, not for herself, the ship herself sails the seas." 
The descendants of the sliip-builder are still living, and the name of the ship of war, " the Kinsale," appears in the old 

"t The Mines. It will be impossible to visit Killarney without hearing perpetually of the Mines. The history' of Boss 
Mine is thus given in " Croker's Researches in the South of Ireland :"—" About the year 1804, Colonel Hall, an EnglisU 
officer, who had been some time quartered at Killarney (with a regiment he had raised in liis own county of DEyt>N), 
conceiving a favourable opinion of Ross Mine, induced one or two gentlemen m the vicnnty to joni hnn m re-opennig it. 
Having succeeded in clearing out the water and rubbish, the little company were encouraged by the flittering appearances 
to proceed to work it ; which they did on rather an extensive scale, notwithstanding the unfavoui-able circumstances ot 

'V■of//€^lz:a^e^ (Z^<^ yicua.' 

a.'l7l£l/ . 


Dui'ing our recent visit we found that the island had undergone great improve- 
ments. Portions allotted to most delicious flowers are succeeded by lawns and shrub- 
beries, prairie and wood, the noble ruin of the O'Donoghuo giving an air of magnificence 


to the whole ; so that it seems like some fairy enchantment — the island in itself 
containing a sufficiency of beauty, without looking to the lake or mountains beyond. 
What visions, too, of old, old times, crowd the memory, when pennon and banner 
floated on the breeze — wlien the glen chief received homage and tribute within those 
walls upon which the green ivy clusters — when abbot and knight passed through the 
portal, and the mountains echoed the war-pipe or the shout of joyous revellers ! 

A visit to Ross Island naturally suggests a consideration of the Legends of the 
O'DoNOGHUE — the most fertile topic of interest connected with the Lakes. We shall 
therefore delay the reader while we relate some of the most striking. 

Wander where you will in this delicious neighbourhood, either up the mountain, 

its situation, neiirly close to the lake, the ground not rising much ahove, and dipping towards it at an angle about thirty 
degrees from the horizon ; so that in a sliort time the worKmen had excavated completely under the lake, w ith every fear 
of its waters breaking in on them. The richness and abundance of the ore was, however, a sufficient inducement to 
counteract this danger and inconvenience, as, during the four years that Koss Mine was worked, nearly £80,000 worih of 
copper was disposed of at Swansea, some cargoes producing £40 per ton. But this very richness was the ultimate cause 
of its destniction, as several small veins of pure oxide of copper split oil' from the main lode, and ran towards the suiface. 
The ore of these veins was much more valuable than the other, consecjuently the miners (who were paid by (juaiily as 
well as quantity) pursued the smaller veins so near the surface, that the waler broke through into the mine in such an 
overwhelming degree, that an engine of thirty horse power could make no sensible impression on the inundation ; and 
thus a forcible stop was put to ah further proceedings." 

The late Col. Hall (the father of the authors of this work) discovered and opened no fewer than thirteen mines in the 
south of Ireland. Some of these he worked for a considerable period ; and, although his efforts were in the end unsuc- 
cessful, he set an example of enter|irise and activity, and supplied evidence of the vast mineral wealth of the country 
wliich entitle us to claim for him some tribute of public gratitude, and justify us in classing him among the benefactors 
of Ireland, He was amongst the earliest of those who laboured to turn to account its great natural resources— to encou- 
rage men of lai-ger means — men who will probably reap the rich harvest for which it was his destiny only to prepare Ihe 
ground, and to direct public attention to a source of profit for the undertakers, and of emplojTiient for the people. Like 
many others who have pointed out the way to fortune, it was his fate to belujld the achievement of his hopes onlj- from a 
very remote distance ; but he enjoyed the enviable knowledge that his labom' had not been in vain : that he had been 
the means of spending some hundreds of thousands of pounds in the country; of giving advantageous emploj-ment to 
masses of the people in various districts, and oi showing how others might certainly do that which he, as certainly, 
failed of doing. 





along the valleys, upon the water, or in any one of the islands, you are sure to find 
some object connected with the legend ; every rock of unusual form is forced into 
an illustration of the story ; the guides and boatmen will point out to the Tourist 
O'Donoghue's horse, O'DonooJiue's prison, his stable, his library, his pigeon-house, 
his table, his cellar, his hone^'i^toibs, his pulpit, and his broom. 

Although its variations are numerous, the original story may be told in a few 
words. In ages long past, O'Donoghue of E.oss was lord of the lake, its islands, 
and the land that surrounded it. His sway was just and generous, and his reign 
propitious ; he was the sworn foe of the oppressor ; he was brave, hospitable, and 


wise. Annually, since his death, or rather disappearance, he is said to revisit 
the pleasant places among which he lived — 

" So sweet is still the breath 
Of the fields and the flowers in our youth we wander'd o'er." 

Every morning he may be seen gliding over the lake mounted on a white steed, 
richly caparisoned, preceded and followed by youths and maidens, who strew spring 
flowers in his way ; Avhile sounds of unearthly sweetness glide along the waters, and 
become thunder as they make their way up the surrounding hills. Although he 
appears in state only on May morning — 

*' For when the last April sun fjrows dim 
The Naiads prepare his steeil for him, 
Wlio dwells, bright Lake, in thee," — 

he is seen on various other occasions : and lucky is the child of earth by whom the 



immortal spirit is encountered ; for be he peer or peasant, good fortune is sure to wait 
upon him — and therefore many are they who peer with longing eyes along the lake, 
at sunrise or in twilight, to catch a glimpse of the chieftain, and Ksten with eager 
ears for the music that heralds his approach. 

We have said that many living witnesses are re£^fT;b testify to the appearance of 
the O'Donoghue, either riding upon, the lake, walking on the shore, or playing 
"hurly" upon the surface of the waters; and we have conversed with so many of 
them, of credit and repute, that we can have no hesitation in believing them to have 
actually beheld that which they affirm they have " seen with their two eyes." The 
circumstance, however, is now easily accounted for ; although, a few years ago, it 
was impossible to consider it otherwise than supernatural. The legend, told ia so 


many ways, is a fertile source of amusement to visitors. As we have said, every 
rock of the Lower Lake is associated with it : the most remarkable of these rocks 
is " O'Donoghue' s Horse," of which the accompanying print will convey an accurate 
idea ; although from some points of view it bears a much closer resemblance to the form 
of the animal whose name it bears. We were the more desirous of preserving a copy 
of this natural wonder ; for, its base being nearly undermined by the continual action 
of the water, it is not likely it can long remain on the comparatively slender props 
that now sustain it. In a few years the " horse " may be an inmate of the chieftain's 
stable under the waves ; but he will cease to be an object of interest and attraction to 
dwellers upon earth.* The guides and boatmen have all, of course, "had a sight" 
of the chieftain, and will tell the Tourist amusing stories — but those they have only 
}xi^ixy:(\. — of their ancestors, who not only saw, but conversed with him, and shared his 
hospitality in his palace below the waves. 

Our guide directed our attention to a scene of surpassing beauty, and exclaimed, 

* Tlie horse lias vanished since this was written ; no doubt there is a " hiajrend" to account for his disappearance ; but 
in sober trutli it must be said that tlie frost of afeevere winter undermined his constitution, and he sank (to be again 
with O'Donoghue) into the Lake. We have tho'uglit it right, however, to preserve the only porU-ait Uiat exists of this 
time-honoured steed. 



" That's tlie place, and a "beautiful place it is — a place that any country may be proud 
of. I've seen people that would float beneath the shadow of those mountain woods 
for a whole summer day, and then return again in the twilight, and wait to see the 
moon rise, and then stay out until she had nearly finished her rounds in the heavens. 
I don't like it, I don't at all alike it ; the lakes are mighty lonely, and even along the 
shores you seldom hear the song of a bird, or any living noise except the belling of the 
deer. It's a lonesome place without the company of one's own kind — though I'm not 
saying that's the best one might have in it — still, it's mighty lonesome in itself." 

" There's a spot somewhere about this mountain of Grlena, is there not, called 
« The Lady's Leap ? '" 

" There is ; and some say it is that point, and others say it is this one, just above 
us, pushing out there through the trees." 

" Do you know the legend? " 

" Oh, that's no laigend at all," said one of the boatmen ; '* but as thrue as that the 
heavens arc above us. Everybody knows that the lady who made the leap was never 
afterwards seen upon earth, any way." 

The legend we gathered from the various versions of our guide and boatmen is 
this : — Long, long ago it was, that a beautiful young lady lived out yonder, in an old 
ancient castle, which, like many a fine place that was among the hills, and in the 
glens of Ireland, isn't there now. She was more lovely to look upon than all the 
other fair daughters of Kerry — bright as a sunbeam, gentle as a dove, light-footed as 
a white roe ; her hair was darker than midnight, and her young heart spotless as 
snow when falling ; her voice was so full of music that the bards used to listen, and 
echo it upon their harps, then throw them aside in despair, and call them tuneless ; 
the poor blessed her as she passed them, for she came of a generous race, and added 
fresh glory to their names ; and the rich honoured her, though she did not honour 
them because of their riches. She was the only child of her father; and when he 
said, ' ' Oh, my daughter, wilt thou not choose for thyself from amongst the princes of 
Erin one to be a protector and friend to thee, and a father to my people when I am 
gone ? " she turned the light of her bright blue eyes away from her father's face, and 
wept. It seemed as if, with the power of making all hearts love her, she thought not 
of love towards man, but closed her heart against all earthly aff'ection. Upon this, the 
holy people, priests and nuns, said, " The fair maiden will be one of us, — she has no 
love for the vanities of the world." But the more experienced among them answered, 
"Not so : behold the fashioning of her robes, their varied colours ; and see the blue 
of her mantle, the curious embroidery, and needle- work, and the jewels that glitter 
on her brow and in her hair : those who think of cloisters do not delight in gauds." 
There was only one among her maidens — Una, of the raven locks — that kept silence, 
and opened not her lips ; the others called their mistress a second Bridget, and chat- 
tered of how they would not use their lovers so — if they had them ; but Una, her 
chosen follower, her humble friend, made no comment ; thinking, doubtless, like all of 
quiet tongue, so much the more. Now every one knew that wlierever her lady went, 
Una followed ; and the two maidens would wander days and nights together along 
the borders of the lakes. Sometimes Una would carry her lady's harp ; and when 
the fishermen heard their voices in conversation or music, they would row far from 
them, respecting them too much to disturb their retirement. Sometimes the lady 
would sit in her boat, which was lined with purest gold, and Una would row her 


along the silvery lines traced by the moonbeams on the waters ; and the lady "wonld 
play and sing in that lonely way, nntil the first rays of morning warned her that the 
night was past. The month of April drew near its end, and when the last day camD, 
the lady said to her attendant, " Una, sleep on to-night, for I mean to "work a spell, 
and discover if it can be given to mortal to converse with him who dwells beneath 
the glorious waters of the beautiful lake." And Una was sore afraid, and trembled ; 
yet she laid down and tried to sleep. But she could not sleep, for she wondered why 
she should be told to do so ; and she followed her mistress secretly and in silence. 
When Una arrived at the margin of the lake, she concealed herself behind an arbutus ; 
but the lady stood beneath the cliif, and Una could see only the star that glittered on 
the top of her silver wand as she moved it to and fro. 

Una was not long there before she heard a noise as of foaming waters ; and then it 
came nearer and nearer, until she beheld the form of a knight on horseback, his white 
plumes waving above his helmet, which seemed one huge diamond, his armour laced 
together with all manner of coloured jewels. The horse was half hidden by the foam 
of the wave ; but Una said it seemed as if the knight bestrode a rainbow. The 
softest, sweetest music that ever was heard accompanied him to the shore ; and when 
he sprang upon the bank where her lady stood, every tree on Glena bowed down its 
branches to do homage to their native prince. Una was not so overcome with the 
sight but that she heard the knight praise her lady's beauty, and promise that if she 
would be faithful to him, and him alone, for seven years, meeting him on that spot 
every May morning until the seventh morning, that on the seventh he would bear her 
away to his lake-guarded palace, and make her his bride. This she promised to do ; 
and sorry was Una to hear her, for she thought within herself how sad it would be 
for the country to lose so fair a blossom, the poor so good a friend, and her aged father 
so dutiful a daughter. 

Tor six May mornings, following each other with their flowers, and wreaths of 
hawthorn, and tender lambs, and singing-birds, and maids as innocent as the one and 
as blithe as the other — for six May mornings, before the lark sung its carol, or the 
thrush left its young to seek for food, did the lady meet her royal lover in the same 
place. The seventh morning was at hand. She changed not, she thought of no other. 
Her heart was with the Water-king : and every other suitor was dismissed, to her 
father's grief and the disappointment of her people. 

Una counted the days of April with sorrow ; mingling her tears with its showers, 
and watching her beloved lady with more than usual anxiety. " Surely," she thought, 
" she will never have the heart to leave her old grey-headed father ; " and she thoiight 
this the more when she saw how her lady's eyes filled with tears when the good old 
man kissed and blessed her — alas I for the last time. This night, also, she permitted 
Una to receive her saftron robe and jewelled coronet, and, then taking her hand, she 
told her she had been a faithful servant, and, she knew, had kept her secret ; and 
Una fell at her feet and embraced them, and lifted up her voice and wept bitterly ; 
and she felt her lady tremble, and hot, large tears fall upon her brow ; but she said, 
" Una, I am pledged to my love to be his bride, and I go to keep my word — do thou 
be a child, unto his death, to my father, and divide my jewels and garments amongst 
the poor. I shall take nothing with me save this white robe — my bridal robe — and 
this wreath upon my head : " and the wreath was made of the white water-lilies — 
their cups more pure than silver, and their thi'eads more bright than gold. This 


wreath she phaced upon her hrow with her own hands, and then walked out into the 
halmy air, while the stars were alive in the shy, and the wood-pigeons dixaming over 
their nests. Una followed at a distance, and saw that the Lake-king was waiting for 
his hride. For a moment her lady stood upon the hank, and waved her arms 
towards the home of her youth ; then paused, and turned towards her lover, whose 
noble steed stood as firmly on the liquid waters as if his silver shoes had pressed the 
earth — the white plumes of his helmet wa'S'ed and danced in the morning air — he 
stood in his stirrups to receive her, and the same moment the sweetest music floated all 
around. The lady sprang from earth for ever ; and away — away — away, swifter and 
brighter than a thousand sunbeams — the Prince and his beautiful Bride flashed across 
the lake ! 

" And spirits, from all the lake's deep bowers, 
Glide o'er the blue wave, scattering flowers." 

We have not done with the O'Donoghue legends ; and whether the reader weary 
of them or not, we must give two or three more. 

" And did you never hear of O'Donoghue's pigs'? Sure, the pigs he had war 
wonderful — so fat and large and handsome, broad-backed and cleep-chested — more 
like cows — the wonder of the whole counthry they were. "Well, he was a little a' 
one side for want of money; and he said to his wife, 'My darlin,' he says, — for he 
was very fond of her, always, — ' My darlin,' he says, ' the times are bad enough, and 
there's so much talk about the pigs that I'll sell 'em.' ' Sell 'em ! ' she says, looking 
all ways at him — for she knew her own now — ' is it sell them ? ' ' "VVhisht ! ' he says, 
' and don't be talking of what you don't understand ; keep to your little parlour, my 
dear, and leave O'Donoghue to manage his pigs ! ' "Well, whatever she answered, 
she said half to herself ; and by that token it wasn't, maybe, agreeble — for when a 
woman doesn't care to spake out, there is something she wants to keep in, you may 
be certain sure of, — and O'Donoghue put a frown upon himself that would terrify the 
lake into a storm at any hour of the day or night ; and so she made a curtshey to him 
by way of obadience, and left him to himself. Well, he thought to himself, while he 
was taking a turn in his library (you may see it in the lake now), that, as he only 
wanted the money for present use, he might as well sell the pigs ; and so off' he druv 
them to market the next morning. Ye think it quare he'd drive the pigs ? Bedad ! 
and so it was ; but he had a rason for it — they wotddnH be druv hy any one else. So 
presently a travelling pig-merchant came up to them, as well as he could through the 
fau- — for the crowd round the pigs went beyant all, to see O'Donoghue on his white 
horse standing at the tail of a hundred o' pigs. Well, he offered for the pigs ; and 
O'Donoghue, when he buttoned up the money, says, ' My good man,' he says, ' if yer 
discontinted wid yer bargain, jist let me know, and I'll give ye yer money back 
again.' But the vagabone thought how soft O'Donoghue must be, for he knew he 
got the pigs for half their value. And one went home, and the other went home ; 
but the home of O'Donoghue and the home of the pig-driver did not lie the same 
road. Well, the man drove off his pigs ; and they most broke the heart in him and 
his men, from the unasy way they wandered — here and there, up and down, in and 
out. Still, when he thought of the fine bacon they'd make, he Avent on, never 
heeding the trouble. After two days' weary journey he came to a river ford ; and if 
ever there had been a bridge there, it was broke down, and the I'iver was foaming 
and dancing over and around the rocks, cutting and slashing like fun, and glittering 


like diamonds. "Well, the Ycry minute the pigs saw the wathur, they dashed into 

it ; and sure enough as they did, every pig became a rush " 

"A what?" 

"A green growing rush, rooted under the wathiu- — quite natural -like, waying, 
with its little tuft of brown bud at the top. — There war his beautiful pigs — his broad 
bacon turned into green rushes ! First of all, he set up an ullagawn that would 
shake the Reeks ; and then he turned back fairly and softly towards Killarney to get 
his money back from the O'Donoghue. When he reached the castle, he knocked at 
the hall door wid the Dane's hammer that hung there ; and_ out comes the lady. 
' And what do ye want, my good man ? ' she says ; so he explained to her. ' Then,' 
she says, 'you must go up to the Prince's bedside and shake him up,' she says, ' for 
he is asleep ; and if you find that won't do, pull him by the foot.' He did as she bid 
him ; but son-a a wake he'd wake. So lifting up the golden quilt that covered the 
bed, he pulled his foot ; and if he did, as sure as Glena is darkening the wathur, foot, 
ankle, leg, and thigh came away in his hand. Oh ! how he blessed O'Donoghue and 
his pigs — the wrong way — as he stood holding the limb, and the Prince sleeping as 
sweet and as quiet as if the May breezes were playing round his head. So he tucks 
the leg under the tail of his coat : and though he was trembling from head to foot, he 
walks past the lady as howU as a ram, and says, ' Thank yer honor, — I've finished 
my business.' He flew ofi" like the wind, and the leg slipped from under his arm ; 
and as sure as it did, it took to running before him ! Whichever way he ran, it was 
before him. More than once he raised his hand to make the blessed sign, hut he had 
no jmwer. And sure his condition was not bettered when looking back, he saw 
O'Donoghue hot foot after him. 'Stop,' he cries, 'ye beggarly pig-driver. What 
ails ye, that ye can't stop when a gentleman tells ye? Give me my leg, he says; 
and I think it a very unmannerly thing of ye, and a proof of yer ill-breeding, to 
come to a gentleman's house, and to stale the leg off his body without his lave, and he 
asleep. Give me my beautiful leg,' says he, coming up to him. ' Plaze yer honorable 
honor's glory for ever ! ' says the fellow, stopping. ' Sure, it run away, sir— it's on 
before, sir.' ' Where?' thundered out the Prince; and every echo from the Eagle's 
Nest to the Gap of Dunloe shouted ' Where ? ' ' There,' answered the nagur. ' Oh ! 
oh ! ' — and the O'Donoghue laughed — the leg was in its own place. ' And there,' 
said the Prince, throwing a purse towards him. ' My pigs are at home, and there's 
yer money. I only wanted my turn out of the Saxon's goold.' " 

We have yet another legend : — 

"It Avas sleeping he was, the poor innocent boy with not enough brains in his 
head to make it ache — an innocent chap intirely — sleeping sometimes — and sometimes 
watching the cows' tails to see if rain was coming, and sometimes counting the stars, 
or hallooing to the echoes, the only company he had, the craythur, on the mountain. 
Well, he was sleeping ; and all of a sudden some one shuck him by the showlder. 

" 'Wake up, Jerry!' says a fine dark gentleman in black, 'Wake up, Jerry, and 
take this letter for me to the Emperor of Proosha.' 

" ' De Emperor of Proosha, is it !' says Jeny, rubbing his eyes — ' Oh ! by dis and 
by dat, I don't know where to find him.' 

" ' Get up, you fool,' said the dark gentleman, ' get up,' and he shook his head, 
with a three-cocked hat upon it, at the poor boy— 'here's my horse standing ready, 
and he'll take you to him at once.' 


" ' I'll go wid all de pleasure in de world,' replied Jerry — ' if yer honour '11 just 
tell me who'll be mindin' de cows till I come back.' 

*' 'I'll mind them,' says the dark gentleman. 

" ' Oh ! yer honour's glory, I'd be sorry to thruhle de likes of yer honour.' 

*' ' If you don't be oiF to Dublin this minute,' says the dark gentleman, ' and' give 
this letter to the Emperor of Proosha, who you'll meet wid the King of Roosha, and 
the Prence of Prance, all walking arm in arm into the Parliament house in College 
Green; if you don't fly this minute, and give it to the Emperor of Proosha — the 
shortest of the three he'll be, with sandy whiskers, and a stoop in his neck ; for his 
crown ' — goes on the dark gentleman, with a bit of a wink — ' his crown is like many 
another crown in the world, more than he can convaynently carry ; give him the 
letter, and don't wait for an answer, and if you don't do it, I'll — ! ' and as he shook 
his fist in the poor boy's face, every single mountain, even the tlu'ee reeks that form 
the crest of the Macgillicuddy, trembled like young rushes. ' It's done, yer honour!' 
shouted Jerry, brave as a lion and bould as a ram, springing on the horse's back as a 
kid springs to its mother's side, and off wont the horse, making the mountains his 
stepping-stones, until he stopt in College Green, and then turning his head like a 
Christian to Jerry, he says, ' Get down, you fool, and don't be keeping me waiting, 
for the smoke of the city makes me sneeze.' So poor Jerry got down, and sees the 
King of Roosha, and the Emperor of Proosha, and the Prence of Prance, all walking 
into the Parliament house, and he up at once to the Emperor of Proosha, and making 
a bow, gave him the letter, and then mounted his horse that was trying to keep in 
the sneeze, and away they went, till he came to where he had left the dark gentleman, 
who was no other than O'Donoghue himself — and, ' Ye'r a nate boy,' says the chief 
to him, ' mighty nate, and if you want to see raal sport, come down to-moi'row 
morning to Castle Lough, and make this sign over yer eyes, and its there you'll see 
fun — only, if you dare to open yer lips it will be the worse for you.' 

" So Jerry thought he'd take one day's divarshun out of himself; and sure enough 
he was earlier than the sunbeam at Castle Lough — and doing as he was bid — and 
there he saw the Emperor of Proosha, and his hurlers — and the Prence of France, 
and his hurlers — and the King of Poosha, and his hurlers, all walking on the lake, 
and trying their bits of hurleys ; and of a sudden up rose O'Donoghue and his boys, 
with black oak hurleys, and every man of them had a white silk shirt tied about his 
middle with green, and the pipers playing O'Donoghue's whistle as grand as Gandsey ; 
and wasn't Jerry, by the same token, as proud as a red deer that he belonged to the 
kingdom of Kerry. Well, it was O'Donoghue against Eoosha, and Proosha, and Prance 
— and one Kerry boy to three furriners— but Kerry had the best of the day, until — 
but Jerry — for he was but soft, you understand — Jerry never could tell what turned 
the luck, but it was turned — and whir-r — the Irish were bet — just for a while — and 
the poor boy clapping his hands in a fair agony, he shouted out, ' Oh, O'Donoghue, 
fire ye going to live and stand that ? ' And as he spoke something rowled in the 
heavens above his head, and he was struclc down between the two eyes ; and when he 
did rise up, he rose up a blind boy upon his own mountain, and remained blind to 
the day of his death. Some said he was struck by lightning ; but, considering every- 
thing, it was more natural to suppose he was struck by O'Donoghue for not minding 
what he told him." 

And another lc";end still : — 


Killamey is no more exempt than other parts of Ireland from ^^ hard men,'''' — sub- 
letters of the soil, who extort to the uttermost farthing. One of these had been 
"very hard intirely" upon a widow — a lone woman — who had been industrious but 
unfortunate. He had come to her " little place,"' and told her that unless her rent 
was paid the next morning, he would distrain forthwith— there should be no more 
delay. The widow knew that, as the man had no pity, her time was come. She 
sat for a few minutes, watching the turf ashes smoulder upon the hearth, wondering 
if they would go out or continue burning until after twelve — and then, throwing the 
hood of her cloak over her face, she thought she would just walk down to the quay 
of Ross Island, and " see if the air would raise her heart." She came to the quay, and 
sat down, praying (if it was God's will) that He would take her out of her trouble 
^-that she might be as calm as the lake ; and she prayed also for patience, and when 
she arose, she felt stronger both in body and mind than she had been for many a long 
day. She turned her steps homeward, but, just as she raised her eyes, "she was 
struck," by seeing a tali fine-looking gentleman before her. She curtsied, and was 
passing on, when he bid her good evening, very kindly, and asked her what she 
was doing there by herself so late, just as the moon was rising ; so she told him how 
her little place was to be taken from her in the morning, and how she had come out 
just to breathe the fresh air, and be alone with God and her own heart for a while, 
and was going home to sleep, maybe for the last time, under her own roof. The 
gentleman watched every word she said, and asked her how much she owed ; and she 
told him, and it was both a long gale and a heavy rent. So he made no more words, 
but pulling out a purse that looked both long and heavy, " Take those," he says, 
" and go home, and pay your rent before a witness, and take a receipt." Well, they 
were gold pieces she held in her hand, and while she was down on her knees blessing 
him he was gone. So she went home, and calling on a neighbour, they both went to 
the hard man's door. " It's no use," he says — and he smoking his pipe like a gentle- 
man /ore?«'«i^ his tumbler of punch — "it's no use, ma'am, coming to me; — -the money 
— or the road." " Here's the money, sir," she says, " if you'll be pleased to give me 
the receipt." Well, to see the look he gave at her, and then at the money — and then 
at her again — and how he tested the gold, and was mean enough to ask her how she 
got it — for the rich of his kind are mighty fond of thinking the poor are thieves — 
but she scorned to give him any satisfaction beyond the money ; — her neighbour saw 
her pay it, and she took her receipt, and the hard man locked up the rent in his 
strong box : but the next morning — never was there anything higher than the 
" ullagawn " he raised — for in place of the ten gold pieces the widow gave him, what 
had he in the strong box but ten " arrabutus leaves! " — and then all the town knew 
it was U'Donoghue himself that righted the poor widow, and punished the hard 

Our readers may believe as much or as little as they please of these stories of 
actual interviews between children of earth and the spirit of the disembodied prince : 
but that he has been seen, accompanied by " troops of friends," there can be no ratioujil 
doubt. Among other witnesses to the fact, we summoned one who was very unlikely 
to be influenced by pre-established superstition — an Englishman, a Protestant, and 
moreover, a soldier of the 30th regiment, of the name of Thomas Reynolds. We 
sent for him to our hotel, and found him a plain-spoken native of Devonshire ; a 
sturdy ploughman, who had won the first prize at a ploughing-match. The man 


had evidently no imagination, and was as little likely to invent a fiction, or to give it 
currency, as any one we have ever seen. His story was this : — He was ploughing at 
Inisfallen with another man, an Irishman ; they were engaged in ploughing up the 
ancient churchyard of the island — a labour which Reynolds disliked, and to which 
his comrade strongly objected, but Lord Kenmare's steward insisted on its being done. 
The morning following the day on which they commenced their work, they were 
mooring the boat in which they had proceeded to the island, when they saw a pro- 
cession of about two hundred persons pass from the old churchyard, and walk slowly 
and solemnly over the lake to the mainland. Reynolds was himself terribly alarmed, 
but his companion fainted in the boat. This circumstance occurred at daybreak, when 
it was almost twilight. He aflS.rmed that he saw, repeatedly afterwards, smaller groups 
of figures ; but no crowd so numerous. In answer to our questions, he expressed his 
perfect readiness to depose to the facts on oath ; and asserted that he would declare it 
if he were on his death-bed. The people, he added, were astonished to find him — an 
Englishman and ia Protestant — confirming their story. The man had certainly no 
object in coining a deceit ; we have not heard of his ever having previously told it to 
any stranger : it was mere accident that made us acquainted with it, and he was evi- 
dently indisposed to satisfy the inquiries of the curious. 

Before the science of the optics was well understood, these very curious and very 
interesting appearances were supposed to be the result of supernatural agency. We 
now know that all such phenomena are the eifects of natural causes, and can even be 
reproduced artificially. They are caused by refraction or reflection of the rays of 
light, and sometimes by both combined, and difi'er from " the airy child of vapour 
and the sun" (rainbow) only in being more rare; because they require more unusual 
atmospheric changes, and uncommon localities, of hill and plain, land and water, to 
produce them.^^ 

Of the islands, next in importance is Inisfallek — sweet Inisfallen! It receives 
from all Tourists the distinction of being the most beautiful, as it is certainly the most 
interesting, of the lake islands. Its peculiar beauty is derived from the alternating 
hill and dale within its small circle ; the elegance of its miniature creeks and harbours ; 

» This tradition, therefore, is founded upon natural causes, and the spectre of O'Donoghue is a real vision. Many such 
illusions are on record. The mirage of the sands of the East exliibits distorted images of real objects, so as to deceive 
all travellers. M. Monge, who accompanied the French army in Egypt, and Dr. Clarke, witnessed and have described 
those plienomena — lakes, trees, and houses in the midst of a naked desert; and so great was the optical deception, that 
they would not believe it such till they passed through the lovely spots, and found nothing but a few miserable Arab huts 
and stunted shrubs in a waste of arid land. Similar appearances are recorded by Scoresby and others as occurring in the 
Arctic seas: one of the ships seemed, as by enchantment, floating in the air; which Scoresby afterwards discovered to 
have been the rejection of his father's vessel which accompanied him in the atmosphere, though the real ship was at a 
disi ance far beyond that at which objects could be seen by direct vision.;; From a similar cause arise the " Fata Morgana," 
in the Straits of Messina, described by Swinbui'ne, and others. Beautiful landscapes, with men and cattle in motion, 
appear on the surface of the seas. It was found to be reHectious of objects on the distant opposite coast of Reggio. In 
certain states of the atmosphere, these spectra are lost as it were on the surface of the sea, and every sheet of water as 
it passes becomes a distinct mirror reflecting them. But perhaps the most striking of these appearances is the celebrated 
" Spectra of the Harlz Mountains,'' which kept the district in terror and alarm from time immemorial, till M. Haue, the 
French chemist, discovered the cause. He went for the express purpose of witnessing the phenomena ; and for thirty 
mornings climbed the Brocken Mountain, without being gratified. At length, early one morning, he observed on the 
ojjjiosite side of the hill the gigantic figure of a man turned towards him. The distinctness of the form left no doubt of 
the reality of the figure; while he contemplated the monster with wonder and awe, a sudden gust of wind nearly blew 
off his hat, and when he put up his liand to hold it on, he obsei-ved the giant do the same. He now found that it was 
notliing more tlian a dilated image of himself reflected on the surface of an opposite closed atmosphere. No doubt the 
legend of O'Donoghue took its rise from some similar optical deception. It is said to be seen at the same hour of the 
morning, and at the same time of the year, as that of the Brocken Spectre. Some horseman riding along the opposite 
shore of the lake is I'cflccted by the almosplioric mirror, and seems to continue his course along the surface of the water. 
Ujion tliis ]inn< iple it is easy to account for the appearances which from tuae to time terrify the peasantry —and the scene 
witnessed by lieynolds is to be thus explained. 


and the extraordinary size as well as luxuriance of its evergreens ; and it far sui-passes 
in interest any one of its graceful neighboiu^s, inasmuch, as here, twelve centuries 
ago, was founded an abbey, of which the ruins still exist, from which afterwards 
issued "the Annals of Inisfallen " — among the earliest and the most authentic of the 
ancient Irish histories.* On approaching it we seem to be drawing near a thick 
forest : for the foliage is remarkably close, and extends literally into the water, many 
of the finest trees having their roots under the lake. On landing, however, we find 
that the lofty elm and magnificent ash, mingled with hollies of gigantic growth, and 
other evergreens (excepting only the arbutus, of which the island does not contain a 
single specimen) of prodigious height and girth, only encircle a greensward, of so 
pure and delicious a colour as to demand for Inisfallen, beyond every other part of 
Ireland, the character of being pre-eminently "the Emerald Isle." Yistas have been 
skilfully formed through the trees, presenting on one side a view of the huge moun- 
tains, and on the other of the wooded shores of Ross. Of the abbey a few broken 
walls alone remain ; it is said to have been built in the seventh century by Saint 
Finian Lobhar (the Leper), the descendant of one of the most renowned of the 
Munster kings ; and it was subsequently appropriated to the use of the regular canons 
of St. Augustin. 

In truth, this little island is very beautiful, resting as it does with so much ease 
and grace upon the surface of the lake ; indented with the most fairy-like bays ; 
elevated into rocky, though not rude magnificence at one side, while the opposite 
shore shelves to the water's edge, and runs out into shallows. It is a miniature of a 
beautiful country — lawns, and dells, and thickets, and vistas, with the most lovely 
views of the lake and the mainland, that assume new aspects from every point of view. 
There are, of course, legends in abundance, connected with this island ; one of them 
concerns the "bed of honour," an indented ledge in the rocky part of the island, 
overshadowed by a venerable yew-tree. The legend bears much the same moral as 
the " Eich and Rare " song of him whose poetry is the warmest language of Ireland. 
The daughter of one of the chiefs in the neighbourhood of the lakes was wooed by two 
youths, both of renown and noble name : but the one the maiden loved was not her 
father's choice ; and, fearing she would be forced to a marriage in opposition to 
her afi'ections, she flew with her lover to the island of Inisfallen ; dreading either 
from its being of easy access from the shore, or from superstitious feelings which 
would prevent their liking the proximity of the abbey, with its stores of graves and 
legends of supernatural appearances, for a resting-place, they wandered to the opposite 
side. The lover pulled a quantity of long grass and moss, and made his lady a couch 

* Tlie oriofinal work, written, and for several centuries presen'ed, in the abbey of Inisfallen, la now in the Bodleian 
Librarj-. It is on parchment in medium quarto, and contains ftfty-seven leaves. The earlier portion consists of extracts 
from the Old Testament, and a history of the ancient worid down to the arrival of St. Patrick in Ireland in •132. From 
this period it treats exclusively of the affairs of Ireland— terminating' with a.d. 1319. It appears to have been the 
production of two monks ; one of whom carried it to the year 1216, and the other continued it to the year 1320. There 
are several copies of it extant: one of which was in the" collection of his Grace the Uuke of Buckingham, at Stowe ; 
part of this was translated and printed in 182.5, by Dr. O'Connor. The facts ai'e narrated in the smallest compass, and 
present a dry, but sad -'succession of crimes, wars, and rebellions." Sir James Ware selected and published several 
passages, to which he refers as authorities; a single quotation may satisfy the curiosity of our readers — "Anno 11*0; 
this abbey of Inisfallen being ever esteemed a panuiise and a secure" sancluan,-, the treasure and the most valuable effects 
of the whole country were deposited in the liands of the clergy, notwithstanding which, we find the abbey was plundered 
in this year by Maolduin. son of Daniel O'Donoghue. Alany'of the clergy were slain, and even in their ceineterj-, by 
the Mac Cai tliys. But God soon punished this act of impiety and sacrilege by bringing many of its authors to an 
untimely end." 



upon the ledge, whereon she slept, while he watched lest they should be followed by 
her father and his rival. The sun had hardly risen when the breeze brought the 
sound of the war-pipe to the lover's ears — the gathering cry of the hostile clan ; 
and presently boats were seen visiting and searching the various islands ; the war 
pennon floated, and the music came towards InisfaUen. First of aU the angry father 
set foot on the holy isle, then the reject(3d lover, and a troop of retainers : all, as 
huntsmen, seek the hare, fifties to one. The fugitives were soon discovered. " You 
will not take her now ? " said to his rival the youth who had kept watch in InisfaUen. 
" Surely you will not take her now ? " "I know," was the reply, " that holy priest 
has not blessed you, nor united you ; but such is my faith in her virtue and your 
honour, that if twelve months instead of twelve hours had passed, I would take her 
as trustingly as if she had never left her mother's side." 

The la ly, however, was for once constant, and was united to the object of her 
love ; and the ledge of the rock has retained its name until the present time. 

Our guide, "Sir Ei chard" — we cannot write of InisfaUen without recalling to 
memory the Prince of Guides — conducted us up and down the tiny hillocks, and 
through the miniature vales, of this delicious isle, and listened with evident pride 
and pleasure to our expressions of exceeding delight. And then he and the elder 
Spillane took advantage of our disposition "to sit awhile and rest," for the day was 
very fair, and the sun was sinking "with a pure light and a meUow," to enlighten, 
and interest, and amuse us, by relating some of the legends of the Lakes. Although 
we have no design to detain our readers for so long a period as these capital raconteurs 
kept us, under the shadow of the venerable tree, we design to incur the hazard of 
wearying them by compressing some of their tales. 

They told us — How St. Patrick never came into Kerry ; but only looked into it, 

holding his hands out to it, and saying, "I bless all beyond the Eeeks." How 

Pin Mac Cool kept his tubs of goold in the lake under Mucross, and set his dog Bran 
to watch them; this was ages ago, long before the Plood. An Englishman — a grate 
diver intirely — came over to try wouldn't he get the goold ; and when he went down, 
the dog woke from his slumbers and seized him ; and I'll go bail he never tried th' 

experiment agin. How, when O'Donoghue leaped out of the windy of Poss Castle, 

his enchanted books flew after him — and there they are — O'Donoghue's library, to be 
seen this day; only turned into stone, and like the Killarney guidebooks — rather 

heavy.-: How, right under the Crebough there was a huge carbuncle, that, of a 

dark night, lit up the rocks under the lake and showed the palaces and towers of the 

ould ancient city that the waters covered. How Darby got his " garden " — a 

group of barren rocks in the Lower Lake. He asked ould Lord Kinmare to let him 
cut wattles out o' the trees of InisfaUen. "I will," says my lord, "as many as ye 
plase between an hour before and an hour after midnight." So Darby took him at his 
word, and went to work. But no sooner did he touch the bark of one of the blessed 
trees, than he was whisked away in a whirlwind, and flung with a skinful of broken 

bones upon the bit of bare rock that we call Darby's Grarden to this day. How a 

holy hermit fell into sin, and did a hard penance for seven long years, just where 
the trees under Mucross dip into the water. He walked sti-aight into the lake, and 
stuck his holly-stick into the gravel at the bottom, and made a vow never to leave 
the spot until the kippen threw out branches and leaves. And for seven years he 
stood there, without sleep or food ; till at last the stick blossomed, and in one night 


became a grate tree, and then the holy hermit knew he was pardoned ; and 'twas he 
that did the wonderful cm-es from that day out, till all the country was running after 

the "Hermit of the holly-tree." How the first O'Donoghue was a tall slip of a 

boy ; and he was sitting in his ould nurse's cottage, when she set up a screech that 
the O'SulKvans were staling the cattle. So up he gets, pulls an ould sword out of the 
thatch, and kills every mother's son of the thieving blaguards. "WTien the fight 
was over, up comes his gilly, and " Didn't we do that nately ? " says he ; and " Were 
you helping me?" says O'Donoghue. "I was," says the gilly. So with that, 
O'Donoghue goes out and sticks one of the dead men agin the wall, with his eyes 
staring open, and his spear in his fist; and he calls to the gilly, " Kill me that big 
fellow," says he; and the gilly was fi'ightened, and tried to skulk off. "I knew 

ye were a coward," says O'Donoghue ; and hanged him on the next tree. How 

the Englishman inquired of a Kerry peasant, by what means Ireland happened to have 
so many mountains — to which the Kerry boy made answer thus, "Ye see, Ireland 
being the finest and the best country in the world, in coorse was the last country that 
Nature made ; and when Ireland was finished, Nature had a dale o' stuff to spare ; 

so she left it there — and that makes the mountains." How the giant Eel, that 

lives in a goulden palace in Lough Kittane, walked one midsummer night into the 
Lower Lake, kicking up a bobbery in the halls of the O'Donoghue ; for which 
impidence the Eel is chained for ten thousand years to the rock we call O'Donoghue's 
Prison ; and many's the man that's heard its moans, and seen the water rise and fall 

above it, as it twirled and twisted, trying to squeeze itself out of its handcuffs. 

How Ein Mac Cool fought at Vcntry Harbour, the battle that continued without 
interruption three hundred and sixty-six days. And Dulav Dura, the champion of 
the Monarch of the world, slain six hundred of Fin's best troops in six days, all 
in single combat; so Fin successively killed Fion M'Cuskeen Loumbunig, Finaugh- 
laugh Trackluskeen, and the champion Dulav Dura ; and fought so long and so 
lustily that his limbs would have fallen asunder if they hadn't been kept together 
by his armour ; till, in the end. Fin totally destroyed his enemies, and took possession 
of the field with trumpets sounding, di'ums beating, and colours flying, having been 

fighting for it one whole year and a day. How Macgillicuddy of the Eeeks was a 

boy or gilly to the Mac Carthy Mor ; and he went into Connaught to seek his fortune ; 
and he fell in love with a young lady, and she with him ; and he boasted to her 
father that he had more ricks than the father's land could gTOw hay enough to cover 
with haybands ; so the father sent a messenger into Kerry to know the truth of his 
riches, and whether the young stranger had the grate fortune he spoke about. And, 
to be sure, the daughter gave the messenger a hint ; so he thravelled to Kerry, and 
saw young Macgillicuddy's father ating his dinner on his knees, with heaps of rats 
all about the cabin he lived in ; so he goes back and tells the fair maid's father, that 
the Macgillicuddy had more live cattle about him than he could count, and was ating 
off a tabic he wouldn't part with for half Connaught. So, in coorse, the boy got the 

girl. How Ossian used to see white horses riding through his fields. " So," says 

he, "by Jakers, the next time they come I'll mount one of 'em," says he. And he 
did. And they took him to the Thierna na oge — that's the land of eternal youth ; 
and a mighty pleasant place he found it, wid beautiful ladies, fresh and fair as a May 
morning. Only after a while, " I'll go home," says he, "just to ax how my friends 
are." " Och, they're dead!" says the king; "dead these fifteen hundred years," 



says he. "Pooh!" says Ossian ; ''sure I haven't been here more than a year?" 
" "Well, go and see," says the king ; "mount one o' my white horses ; but mind, if 
ye get off his back, ye'll be ould, shrivelled, and withered," says he, "and not the 
fine bould gorsoon ye are now." So Ossian went; and he wondered greatly to see 
such a many ould castles in ruins — for ye see, yer honours, 'twas after Cromwell 
went through the country like a blast ; bad luck to his seed, breed, and generation ; 
Amin! "Well, Ossian meets an ould clargy, going home to holy Aghadoe, and he 
trying to lift a sack o' com on his back; and "help," says he, "for the sake o' the 
Virgin." " Faiks, I will, honest man," says Ossian; "for the sake of virgin or 
married woman, or widdy," says he ; for ye see Ossian was a hathen, and didn't know 
what the holy father meant by " the Virgin." So he leaped off his horse, and in a 
moment he was an ould, shrivelled, withered man, oulder looking a dale than the 
priest he was going to help wid the sack o' corn. So the blessed monk of Aghadoe 
knew that the spell of the enchantment was broke ; and he convarted Ossian — made 
a Christian of him on the spot : and by the same token, it was to a dale finer and 

better country than the Thierna na oge, that Ossian was carried that same night. 

How the blessed Abbot of Inisfallen walked for two hundred years about the little 
island that wasn't a mile round. And the way of it was this : — He was praying one 
morning early, before the sun was up ; and he heard a little bird singing so sweetly 
out of a holly-tree, that he rose from his knees and followed it, listening to the music 
it was making ; and the little bird flew from bush to bush, singing all the while, and 
the holy father following, for so sweet and happy was the song of the little bird, that 
he thought he could listen to it for ever ; so where it flew he went ; and when it 
changed its place, he was again after it, the little bird singing all the while, and the 
holy father listening with his ears and his heart. At length the abbot thought 
it was nearing vesper time ; and he blessed the little bird and left it. When he 
stepped back to his convent, w^hat should he see and hear but strange faces and 
strange voices ; the tongue of the Sassenach in lieu of the wholesome Irish. And the 
monks asked him what right had he to wear the habit of the holy Augustines ? And 
so he told them his name, that he was their abbot, and that he had been since day- 
break following the music of the little bii'd that was singing sweetly among the 
branches of the holly-tree. And they made answer, that two hundred years ago 
the holy abbot had left the convent, and was never heard of afterwards — and that 
now the heretic and the stranger was ould Ireland's king. So the holy father said, 
" Give me absolution, some of ye, for my time is come ; " and they gave him absolu- 
tion : and just as the breath was laving him, they heard at the lattice window the 
sweetest song that ever bird sung ; and they looked out and saw it, with the sun 
shining on its wings that wei'e as white as snow ; and while they were watching it, 
there came another bird ; and they sung together for a while out of the holly-tree, 
and then both flew up into the sky ; and they turned to the holy father — and he was 

But we have surely stayed too long at Inisfallen — "fair Inisfallen!" — we must 
away among the other islands. There are few, however, and none of them remark- 
able. Here is O'Donoghue's Prison, a rock covered with a thick layer of peat, and 
containing only a single stunted tree ; here, on the other hand, is Lamb Island, a 
mass of underwood and finely-grown forest trees. Here is the tiny morsel of ever- 
green called Mouse Island ; the chances are that we shall see a craven cormorant 


issue from its half a yard of sedge.* Passing Brown or Rabbit Island — so called from 
the myriads of coneys that formerly peopled it, and were all disowned in a single 
night by a sudden flood — and leaving the river Laune a mile or so to the right, we 
cross the lake to visit 0' Sullivan's Waterfall. Many prefer it to that of Old Tore; 
it has a more solitary character ; has been evidently left more completely to self- 
govemment : there is, in short, more of nature about it. Rowing southward, we 
pass Stag Island, then Burnt Island, and pause a minute or two to look at "Darby's 
Garden " — a low ledge of rocks, out of which grow a few meagre arbutus-trees. 
Here we are again right under Glena Mountain, floating through Glena Bay, looking 
once more at Glena Cottage, and listening yet again to the echoes of Glena — beautiful 
Glena ! 

"We have a choice of water- paths into the Lake — one straight before us, under 
Brickeen Bridge, the other round by Dinis Island, passing again through the narrow 
channel, which extorted a compliment from the great Magician of the North. Let us 
enter Tore by one way, and pass out of it by the other. 

And now for a rich treat — a delicious termination to a day of luxury — A Row 
EOixND ToEC Lake. We have ali'eady made some reference to this great pleasure ; but 
probably the Tourist will have postponed it until visiting the Islands. Some time or 
other it must be enjoyed, and this day cannot be closed better. Luckily it is evening. 
Bright and glorious as the Lakes look in sunshine, there is something sweetly soothing 
in a row upon their waters just as the twilight is deepening into night. Fortunately, 
we asked Spillane if Tore had any echoes. " Of course," he said, " it had ; but so few, 
comparatively speaking, went round Tore Lake, that its echoes were not so celebrated 
as they deserved to be." 

The evening was clear and grey ; and our boatmen, Myles Mac Sweeny and the 
elder Hurley — just the boatmen fitted for the scene — knowing when to keep silence, 
and most anxious to arouse and display all the Lions of the Lakes for the Tourist's 

Respectfully Spillane saluted Tore Mountain, as we entered his domain, with one 
of his native airs. There was neither ripple on the lake, nor breeze from the moun- 
tain — all was hushed : there was a pause — lowly and faithfully were the notes echoed: 
another pause — more faintly it sounded in the distance : another pause — the echo this 
time was imperfect in the semitones ; but faint though the next repetition was, it 
seemed correct. 

And now we are fairly in the lake — shut in. by those "eternal hills;" our oars 
skim the water, so that we go very gently along — softly, and then pause, our boatmen 
resting on their oars, while Spillane again summons the " aii'-maidens," by the magic 
sound of the " Meeting of the Waters." At the end of each bar he pauses, and then 
it is repeated — again — and again the answer comes in the luscious voice of "Sweet 
echo — sweetest nymph ! " The Tore Waterfall appeared but as a silver ripple, 
straying down the mountain. We thought of the delicious view we had enjoyed 

* Cormorants were formerly great pests of the Lakes ; but Mr. Herbert has taken care to thin their ranks bj' ordering 
his gamekeepers to shoot them wherever seen. They used to destroy enormous quantities of flsh. Their successors are 
" the cross-/Jshers : " i.e. unfair anglers, who do incalculable mischief to the fisherj'. This atrocious mode of poaching is 
thus practised : — Two boats go out, each with a line, rod, and reel ; their lines are joined and depending upon them are a 
score, sometimes threescore, of flies. A vast number of fish are tlnis hooked ; and several are landed, although a large 
proportion of them escape, in consequence of the inutility of skill to " play" them. It is a butchering libel on the art; 
and an angler who practises it ought to be expelled the " gentle craft." 


from the top of that same Fall, and how the lake looked from the summit of mighty 
Mangerton, the water over which we were then floating seeming as if it would all 
hold in the palm of a giant's hand! The Tore cottage was seen to great advantage, 
its smooth lawns undulating, and then extending to the lake, the smoke curling up 
the mountain, imparting a silent life to the landscape, while suddenly the dinner-bell 
rang forth its cheerful summons, and then the boatmen plied their oars bravely, for 
we were anxious to view the caves on the opposite side. 

These caves are exceedingly picturesque, the summit frequently so slightly covered 
with clay, that you wonder how the trembling London-pride can find sustenance. 
Having been introduced, of course, to *' Jackey Buee," — Yellow Jackey, a "manly- 
looking rock" — we proceeded slowly round the lake, examining first one cave and 
then another, until, when we came again beneath the mountain, our boatmen paused : 
— " IS'ow, Mr. Spillane ! " said IMyles, " now's a fine time for the laugh — O'Donoghue's 
laugh." There was an instant laush, while Spillane rose, and, placing his bugle to 
his lips, blew strongly a succession of discords — an imitation of what might be called 
"Satanic laughter." Crash, crash it went, and roused the angry echoes, which 
repeatedly, now loudly, now faintly, then in the distance — far, far off — the phantom- 
like sounds. Certainly, it was most unearthly music — ringing sharply, and then 
deeply — as if the echoes, retired to their slumbers, were enraged at a rude waking ; 
and their voices gave existence to a succession of bitter curses. 

Out again we issue, right across the lake, on our homeward voyage. Once more 
we pass by Inisfallen ; once again we listen to Spillane, as he plays, while we repeat 
the words, 

" Isle of beaut}', fare thee well ! " 

But although our row round the lake was after sunset, it does not follow that others 
will postpone it to an hour so late. Those who are voyaging earlier may row by 
Inisfallen, and enter the river Laune — the river where the naiads meet the mer- 
maidens of Old Ocean ; for it connects Killarney with the broad Atlantic. 









Staet not, gentle reader, at finding a description of 
tlie magic beauties of Killarney teiminated by the 
uncouth objects which head this page. From such as 
these you are about to derive no inconsiderable en- 
joyment, if your taste incline you to antiquities ; 
at all events you wQl gratify a very natural and 
pardonable cui'iosity ; and, if we mistake not, 
some of the singularities you 
design to examine will make 
impressions on your mind so 
strong, that time will not 
rapidly remove them. Our in- 
troduction to them must be 
managed with sufficient brevity ; 
we must, indeed, content oiu'- 
selves with doing little more 
than leading you to two or 
three deeply interesting spots, and leaving you to your ovm dreamy speculations over 
themes and heroes of many centuries ago. The value of Killarney to the Touiist is 
unquestionably augmented by the fact that the 

" Work of Dniid hands of old " 

may be inspected in the midst of so many natural beauties. 


About two miles from Killarney, and a quarter of a mile perhaps from the main 
road, is the singular Cuiart or circle of Loisavigeen. It is situated in the centre of 
a field, near the summit of a hill, and consists of " seven low upright dallans, or pillar- 
stones, each between three and four feet in height, and forming a small court, the 
diameter of which is fourteen feet ; that of the outer earthen circle is thirty-four feet." 
(We adopt the measurement of Mr. "Windele.) About sixty feet south of the entrench- 
ment stand two other dallans, the tallest of which is eleven feet high. They stand 
nearly east and west, and are distant from each other seven feet. Circularity in their 
stone monuments was a favourite form with the pagan Irish. It is observed not only 
in their temples, such as these circles and fire-towers, but even in their dwellings, 
their Cahirs, forts, &c. 

The hill overlooks the Glen of Ahahunning. It is a pretty glen. Through the 
soft grass and moss appear numberless grey stones, which the people say were 
used in faiiy warfare. It is planted with trees, which thicken into a wood if you 
follow the winding of the river to any distance. At one side the banks slope to the 
water, on the other they are abrupt and broken into ravines. A pretty gentle little 
girl guided us to both the hill and the glen, and to the tree that has a melancholy 
notoriety amongst the peasantry, from the fact of a young and beautiful woman 
having hung herself from its branches — a rare occurrence in Ireland. "You see, 
ma'am," said the girl, "that it happened, when the wood was first planted, that one 
of the Mac Sweeneys deluded a poor young girl from some part of Munster into this 
glen, promising to make her his wife, which he could not do, for a reason that he had 
a wife of his own. When she found how it was, her heart was crushed altogther ; 
and stealing out into the glen, she cut those words, as you will see, upon the stone : — 

' Mac Sweeney took me from my place ; 
May he, like me, meet sui-e disgrace.' 

And then she hung herself out of the bough of the tree — the largest tree in the wood 
it was then : and now you see — for there it is — it is the smallest ; it never grew a 
stroke since — a stunted, ugly ti'ee." 

No wonder the tree should have a legend attached to it, for it is very singular. 
Eveiy branch, no matter how small, has a crooked bend ; and certainly, at its foot 
lies a stone, on which a little trouble will clearly trace the couplet our little guide 
repeated to us. There is nothing traditionary in that. 

The Tourist is on his way to Glenflesk ; and let him visit it. Its beauty wiU 
amply repay the trouble, to say nothing of the interest attached to "Labig-Owen" 
— the Bed of Owen — a huge crevice in Phil-a-dhaoun, the Demon's 0115". It is a 
" good step " fx'om the road, up a very steep hill, or rather a succession of rocks — 
some pointed, others flat and smooth ; here and there the foot sinks into patches of 
bog, and the hands grasp for help the feathery birch-boughs or gigantic heather. 
The way to the " Labig," the " easy way," as it was called, is greatly intersected by 
roots of trees, crossing and recrossing the various passes, some overgrown with moss ; 
while from every crevice spring up the broad green leaves and thin transparent stems 
and blossoms of the London-pride. When near the summit the visitor will look down 
upon the valley, which from this point of view is of exceeding beauty ; the straggling 
course of the tremulous river is masked, and its murmurs supply appropriate music ; 
while the opposite sides of the mountain show their bared and craggy sides, in eon- 

THE outlaw's bed. 145 

trast to the rich but wild luxuriance of the foliage at our feet. At length, by 
climbing, scrambling, and crawling, the foot of the Outlaw's Eock is reached. A 
ladder having been previously obtained at one of the surrounding cottages, the " bed " 
is entered. It is a flat space of about twelve feet square in the side of the hill ; a 
crevice is pointed out as the sleeping-place, and a jutting rock as the table of the 
outlaw. A safer asylum can scarcely be imagined; it is completely screened by 
naturally planted trees, some of which are veiy aged ; completely inaccessible on three 
sides ; and on the fourth the enti'ance might be defended by one man against a 
hundred. Here several outlaws have taken shelter ; the last was a commonplace 
murderer, about fifty years ago : to an earlier seeker of its protection, however, an 
interesting story is attached. 

Owen, the real hero of the Phil-a-dhaoun, was of the noble race of the ISIac 
Carthys, and, as in duty bound, an ally of the O'Donoghues of the Glens. He was 
a rover of the most daring character, a man of great personal strength and beauty, 
bold and brave, possessing the qualities which even now exercise an almost unbounded 
influence over the Irish peasant. It is said that one of his followers was so devoted 
to him, that he left kith and kin to companion his wanderings ; and when trouble 
{i.e. justice) was in pursuit of the mountaineer, and he found it necessary to retreat 
like the fox to his lair, or the eagle to his eyiy, when he made Phil-a-dhaoun his 
resting-place, and slept upon the heather-coverecl rock, his friend would sit at the 
entrance to the cave and watch his slumbers. With the assistance of this untiring 
comrade he kept possession of the heights, the peasantry supplying him with food, 
placing goat' -milk, oaten cakes, and whisky in the crevices of the rocks, or beneath 
the thick moss. Thus he subsisted for a long time ; but although a price was set 
upon his head, he became weary of restraint, and also thought that by retiring into 
the wilder ancl deeper glens of Iveleary he might withdraw suspicion from his favourite 
Phil-a-dhaoun. His follower resolved to maintain his post, so as to divert attention, 
and enable Owen to make good his retreat to the house of one Reardon, in the glens of 
Iveleary, who, while professing the greatest devotion to the outlaw, cherished a bitter 
hatred towards him. The determined bravery and great personal strength of Owen 
Mac Carthy prevented the false coward from resorting to open violence ; but he 
resolved to ensnare what he dared not combat : he placed the bed of the gigantic 
glensman over a trap-door, and when he slept secure in the hospitality of an Irish 
roof, Reardon and his accomplices lowered the bed, murdered their guest, and cut off 
his head. The disgrace of this cold-blooded and treacherous action clings to them 
still, for the Reardons of that district are still called Reardane na ceaji, meaning 
"Reardon of the head." Owen's faithful follower, who had remained at the Lahifi, 
when he heard of the murder flung himself off the ledge in a fit of despair, and was 
found dead among the rocks in the glen. 

The Tourist should return from Glenflesk by the old road, which, leaving to the 
right the ancient Castle of Killaha, runs for some distance by the side of, or at least 
not far from. Lough Kittane. It is a barren lake on the eastern side of Mangerton, 
or rather at the base of Crochan Mountain, and is supplied by the streams which run 
from both ; its own waters are poured into the Flesk by the river Finou. The 
pedestrian may examine many magnificent objects among the neighbouring glens. 
We refer to it chiefly to indicate the locality of a wonderful cave, or rather series of 
caves, of which we may claim the merit of discovery. Paths abound in the neigh- 



bourhood of Killarney ; and our cui'iosity was naturally excited to ascertain if any 
one of them contained excavations — which it is said are the common characteristics 
of all.^* 

It was rumoured that an ancient house of the O'Donoghues, in this vicinity, was 
abandoned soon after it was built, as "unlucky," in consequence of the builder's 
erecting it " convanient to a Rath." This was a clue: we followed it up, and, 
under the guardianship of " Sir Richard," proceeded to make our inquiries. The 
result was the proceeding about half a mile from this ruined house, with half a score 
of candles, and a couple of stout fellows with spades. "We found the Rath easily — a 
green mound on the summit of a small hill, perfectly circular, the circle formed Dy a 
hedge of mould ; of the ai'tificial character of which there could be no doubt. We 
saw what we supposed to be the entrance to the chambers underneath ; it was nearly 
in the middle of the enclosure, and open as they all are — to the east. With some 
difficulty we persuaded our workmen to aid us in the task of clearing away the stones 
that had been flung into this opening. After a couple of hours' hard labour, we had 
the satisfaction to find the passage clear, and wide enough to admit the body of a 
man.f As the service was one of some little danger, we drew lots with Sir Richard 
who should adventure first. The task fell to him. Lighting each a couple of candles, 
and bearing each a small stick, we entered as nearly together as we could. Having 
descended about ten yards — a gradual slope — there was a sort of landing, upon which 
we took rest : the passage was so narrow that we could not sit upright. 

The descent was resumed. Presently some loosened stones fell, and informed us 
that beneath us there was water : about twelve yards lower, and to this water we 
came. The stick assured us that its depth was not dangerous ; and so, into the cave 
we went — the first of human beings, most probably, who had entered it for two 
thousand years. The cave was a perfect circle, about sixty feet in diameter, and in 
height not above five feet ; we could not stand upright : the water was about two 
feet deep, so that, unfortunately, it was impossible for us to ascertain if any object of 
interest was to be found on the floor, for the water became mudded very rapidly. J 
Probably some remains of bones might have been discovered ; for the best authorities 
seem to consider these excavations sepulchral. Peering about us, we perceived a hole 
that looked like a fox-hole. It was, however, barely big enough for us to crawl 
through ; and we entered another cave, smaller, but similar in form and character. 
Another such passage led us into another such cave. We could find only those tliree, 

* There is no object which the peasantry regard with so mucli superstitious dread as the Rath, from the belief that it 
is the especial property of the fairies. It is difficult to find a labourer who can be tempted by any reward to put his 
spade into one of them. They have consequently remained uncUsturbed for ages ; and often a large space is therefore 
suffered to continue an unprofitable waste in the centre of a fertile meadow. Stories in abundance are told of punish- 
ments that have followed attempts to open or level these Raths, and of scenes and objects witnessed by persons who 
have unconsciously slept beside them, or passed them at night. They are always circular. 'I'hey are vulgarly attributed 
to " the Danes." That they are structures of very remote antiquity is apparent from the circumstances of their being 
found in places where the Danes never settled ; as also from the cromleachs and stone circles sometimes found on their 
summits, plainly identifying them with the age of heathenism. 

t One of tlie men caught a very sevare cold, in consequence of his visit below ; and of course his illness was attributed 
to the effects of the curse upon all who put a spade in a Rath.— It is the invariable custom to fiU up all such openings ; first, 
because it is considered unlucky to the land to leave them open : and next, because occasionally Uiey break the legs of 
cattle, whose feet stumble in them. 

t The weather had been exceedingly wet for some days before our visit ; water had therefore made its way into the 
cave ; but that in dry seasons tliere was no water there, we had conclusive proof. On examining closely, we found the 
sides of the cave scraped in a singular manner, the marks being evidently fresh : a little reflection convinced us that this 
arose from the rabbits, who had made their way in, and had been searching about to find a way out. 

•■• «r< 


''/u-u/^^/^l^^>'i^, Ac^'T^ty ^4^^-^ ^)i^6ay?^a< 

THE druid's cave. 147 

but have no doubt that others exist ; indeed, Ave felt quite certain that another hole 
in the Eath, much about the size and character of the one vfe opened, would lead to 
precisely the same results — the discovery of a line of subteiTanean chambers ; and we 
have little doubt that they go all round the hill. An old man pointed our attention 
to a spot somewhat distant, both from the entrance we explored, and that to which 
we now call attention, which he said he recollected to be named " the chimney," and 
which assuredly was an opening into a room under ground. The chambers we explored 
appeared to haA'e been merely scooped out, and in a very rough manner ; there was no 
evidence of the exercise of skill, except that the corners of two of the rooms were 
formed by a wall of uncemented stones, each about 14 inches by 7, and evidently 
selected with some care. These had been laid one above another from the floor to, 
we imagine, within two feet of the roof ; they of course passed considerably higher 
than the rooms, which, as we have observed, were only five feet high. 

A question will naturally occur — what was the motive for fonning this singular, 
and ajTparently useless, excavation ? if constructed for human habitation, it would 
be difficult to devise one more unnaturally uncomfortable. In fact, no one who 
examines this series of chambers will for a moment entertain the idea that they were 
formed for human beings to live in. To detennine their uses — whether for conceal- 
ment, for religious rites, or for sepulchral purposes — must rest with- others. This cave, 
so near a neighbourhood where many persons will have leisure to gratify curiosity, 
may be considered as an acquisition of some value to the locality. 

We have still another Druidic remain to introduce to the reader. Those who 
walk in Lord Xenmare's beautiful demesne should on no account omit to visit the 
famous " CLorGH-XA-CrDDT," the stone of Cuddy. It is surrounded by trees, chiefly 
hawthorn, of immense age and growth, and planted in a circle. From time imme- 
morial this stone has been considered holy by the peasantry. It is visited continually 
by the ailing — the blind particularly, who wash 
their eyes with the water contained in two holes 
here indicated. 

When the Tourist has examined CioroH-s-A- 
CtTDDY, the circle of Loisavigeen, the Logan Stone 
in the Gap, the Ogham Library, and orR cave, he 
will have, perhaps, a clearer notion of the works 
of the Druids than he can have within an equally 
limited space elsewhere. 

Another of the beautifid drives about Killamey clough-na-cuddy. 

is the di-ive to Lord Kenmare's Deer Park. The road to the right leads to a very 
extensive view, but that to the left conducts to a delicious little glen, thi-ough which 
the coquettish Deenagh meanders — dimpling, and brawling, and eddying. 

Let no one leave Killarney without rowing a mile or two down the Laune, and 
visiting DrxLOE Castle by water; — as we did, in the "gloaming" of a summer 
evening, when the lake was calm — the grey fly floating on its surface, and the salmon 
and trout springing from the waters. As you turn into the Laune, the current flows 
so silently that you wonder how it is you rush past the ferry, and then float on 
through a wilderness of water-beauty. The river widens at each side into little bays, 
over-arched by trees of the most luxuriant growth, and foliage of every tint ; then 
turns, so that you get another view of the mountains of the Gap to the left ; while 


on the right all is of the most soft and sylvan heauty ; then "the bittern sounds 
his drum," 

" Booming from the sedgy shallow ; '' 

or a heron flaps past ; or the grey hawk screams from the mountains ; and the small 
shi'iek of the plover is answered by the plunge which the wild duck or the coot makes 
into the water — disturbed from the rushes by the stroke of our oar, fall it ever so 
lightly ; or perchtmce an eagle comes soaring from the cliffs, where his eyry has been 
time out of mind, not deigning to notice the world beneath ; the small trout spring 
on both sides, so that the river is dimpled all over ; every bush and brake is full of 
existence : — you hear the low of the mountain cattle, and the bleat of the wild goat; 
and you see the thin wreath of cottage smoke toiling through the atmosphere ; and 
then there are fresh bays, and creeks, and huge trees lying almost across the stream ; 
and a troop of ponies shake their ragged manes at you, and then neigh and gallop 
into the thicket ; and the clouds that float above you, and above the glorious Eeeks, 
are *' fresh from the pavilion of the setting sun," — some pale as the leaves of mountain- 
roses, or tinged with a faint primrose, or so filmy, and white, and tender, that you see 
the blue sky beyond them, and a star or two glancing therein ; and then — butshere 
stands the castle on its bold promontory above the river — a firm, fearless looking keep, 
approached by a steep hill-road, recalling one of the Ehine towers. 

"When we re-entered our boat, the mists wei'e rolling up ; the mountains, and the 
water, and atmosphere, appeared of the same tone of colour — almost of the same 
quality. Occasionally a distant bugle would tell the return of some party who had 
been rowing on the lake. As we passed the ferry, we could hear the chorus of a song, 
while the figures of the singers were dim and " phantasmagoriac." On the flat be- 
yond, lights sparkled through the windows of the picturesque residence on " Mahony's 
Point;" and so dim and indistinct had all things become before we reached the 
landing Pier, that the glancing lights in our hotel seemed dancing in mid- air. 

There must be limits to every human work ; and in book-making they are specially 
prescribed. Our space is exhausted before the subject.'''' Yet we cannot conclude our 

* Among the inducements to visit the Lakes, there is one we cannot omit to notice. For a description of it we must 
draw upon a friend, as we were not ourselves fortunate enough to witness it : we allude to one of Killamey's far-famed 
stag-hunts. Our visits to tlie Lakes were paid during months when the j'oung fawns were about, and when a "stag 
hunt" was impossible without doing much mischief. It is not generally known that the mountains abound with red 
deer. Tore alone contains man)-, and in the summer evenings they may be heard belling on all sides of its lake. 
The hounds are now kept by Mr. Herbert ; — a famous pack, well suited to the wildness of these glens. The place of 
meeting on this occasion was Derricunniliy, the beautiful cascade on tlie Upper Lake. The morning was .ine, and we 
procured one of the many fine boats which are to be "hired at Killarney. They were all in requisition : nothing could 
surpass the beauty of tlie scene as we threaded along the various windings between the Upper and Lower Lakes ; 
boats, lustily manned, filled with ladies, whose gay attire and cheerful faces caused even the mountains to sing with 
pleasure, — for a merrj' laugh from each boat as it passed the far-famed Eagle's Nest was returned tenfold by its echoes, 
which kept up a constant reply to the view-halloo of the boatmen, the bugle of the helmsman, and the fainter cadence 
of the female voice. At length we reached the Upper Lake, and were surprised at the number, beaut)', and appoint- 
ments of the various boats ; — Lord Headley's with his crew, Mr. O'Connell's, O'SuUivan's, &c., &c., the flags bearing 
their respective mottoes, all eagerly awaiting the moment of action. At length Mr. Herbert arrived in a splendid cutter, 
manned by some old college friends, himself pulling stroke — his blue banner bearing the title of his bark, the " Colleen 
Dhas" (the beautiful mnid). The hounds were now laid on, and soon made the echoes ring with their music. We 
pulled along shore parallel with their cry ; at length we turned into a bay at the bottom of the lake, and then lay-to by 
the advice of our boatmen. We had scarcely reached the spot when the helmsman raised his hand in silence, and 
pointed towards the glens ; we saw a majestic stag bounding towards us. Within a few yards of our boat he dashed into 
the lake, and was quickly followed by the liounds, tracking him with fatal accuracy. 'I hey soon reached the opposite 
shore, and climbed tlie mountain side ; at length tlie bugle sounded, and a hundred voices proclaimed tliat the monarch 
of Tore had fallen. The novelty of the scene, the excitement of the peasantry, the beauty of the rowing — all contributed 
to render interesting this novel pastime. 


introduction to " the Lakes" without giving some account of that which every Tourist 
is pretty nearly certain to encounter — a wet day. 

We shall picture one — or rather two — and require no aid from fancy. 

Pour — pour — pour — a thorough day of Killarney rain — pour — pour — pour — un- 
ceasingly. The noble trees of ]Mucros!5 absolutely bend beneath the weight of waters. 
The cock who crowed so proudly yesterday, and carried his tail as if it were a banner, 
has just tottered past, his crested neck stooped, and his long feathers trailing in the 
mud ; — the hens have disappeared altogether. The pigs ! — no one ever did see a pig 
at liberty about Cloghreen ; compulsory stay-at-homes ! We are at the hotel — " The 
Herbert Arms" — and there, in our pleasant chamber, this is written. There is a pony 
waiting to carry some one up to Mangerton — his ears laid back, and the water flowing 
down his sides. Three of the glen girls, with their goats' -milk and potteen, have 
stood for at least two hours under what, in ordinary weather, would be called "the 
shelter of the trees," — but now the trees look as if they themselves wanted shelter. 
And so the glen girls — with their yellow streaming hair — and piggins, and bottles, 
and cracked tea-cups — have disappeared. Dill, poor little fuzzy-faced dog, has crept 
into the parlour, wet and shivering — and is now looking up at the fire, composed of 
logs of holly and huge lumps of turf — in a distrait sort of way — not grinning, as usual, 
the nearest approach to a human laugh we ever saw on a dog's face. The men who 
passed and repassed yesterday, carrying hampers of turf slung across their shoulders — 
what has become of them ? certainly they did not hurry at their occupation, but took 
it easy — " very asy ;" lounging along in a somnambulist sort of style, indicative of a 
strong desire for repose. A few of the village children have passed to the pretty 
school ; and they have either galloped through the rain like young rough-shod colts, 
or gone in detachments — threes and fours — sheltered beneath their mother's cloak — a 
moving tent of grey or blue cloth. Everything appears shivering and nerveless — 
Nature's energies seem washed away — the calf that was "mooing" all yesterday to 
its mother has not the spirit now to move its tasselled tail, or raise its ears, or ask for 
a drop of milk. The gentle patient "fishing gentleman," whom three years ago we 
left in a boat on Tore Lake, and discovered on the very same spot this summer — he 
whose name is never mentioned without a blessing — has come forth — looked up — 
shook his head twice at the clouds — then disappeared altogether, to tie flies — or 
perhaps count, as we have been doing, the number of rain-drops hanging from the 
window-frame — and wondering which will fall first. A little shock-headed girl, 
whose wild eyes glitter from out her hair, her cloak hanging in what artists call tcet 
drapery around her, has just brought in news that the bridge is under water. — " The 
riesk Bridge !" we repeat in astonishment. "No, de road ladin' from Klarncy town 
to de bridge." " And how did you come?" "Trough de water." The little girl's 
arrival is an event; for we seem shut in from every external thing this morning, save 
the sound of the pouring rain: even the arbutus girls, Killarney "accompaniments," 
have not made their appearance. If we open a book we cannot read, for we are 
watching to see if there is any chance of the clouds breaking ; we look out of the 
window, grumbling, and discontented, instead of being thankful that we are not 
undergoing quarantine in the dirty beggar-crowded town of Killarney, instead of 
at the pretty hotel at Cloghreen — or, as it was once called, Droumirourk — at the 
foot of broad-backed Mangerton, almost within sound of the thunder of Tore Water- 
fall, and opposite the bowers and groves of Mucross. How difl'erent is the soft 


splashy sound of the bare-footed peasants, who, at long intervals, slop past the 
windows, to the sharp clinking pattens of English dwellers in country villages ! We 
have heard no baying from the deep-mouthed hounds this morning, though usually 
they make the village ring with it — especially if either Spillane or Gandsey sounds 
a bugle. If the rain ceases even for a minute, thrush and blackbird burst into a 
loud song of joy — and Jerry Connor, most attentive of waiters, watchful of the weather, 
pops in to tell us, "that though it's a terrible rain intirely for the time of year — 
glory be to God ! — yet the glass is rising, or — going to rise." Then our landlord 
comes in with the information, that never was anything so magnificent as the boiling 
flood at the Old Weir Eridge caused by last night's storm; and that we really must 
di'ive to Dinis Island, and see it — no matter "the pour;" we might come to Killarney 
a hundred times — and never see the Old Weir in such real glory ; the foresters have 
been in the woods since daybreak, tearing away the branch-wracks of the hurricane ; 
and the torrent wreaths itself into foam — curling above the arches. Our land- 
lord says it is worth enduring a week's confinement from rain and storm to see 
the Lakes fuller than they have been for twenty years ; to see the Old Weir foaming 
and shaking- — and to see Tore Waterfall dashing down his eighty-foot torrent — with 
as much zeal and energy as if he " was got up" to please the Queen ! It is therefore 
decided that though the rain pours as violently as ever ; that though Jerry — always 
ready to hope in the very teeth of despair — can only say he thinks "the glass has a 
mind to rise ;" still we ai-e to drive to Dinis Island in a covered car — and there get 
out and look at the Old Weir in his "flurry." At what hour are we to set out? 
Our guide, good Sir Richard, said at twelve ; but then comes the question, by which 
of the iwo CLOCKS are our movements to be decided ? Our landlord shook his head 
and smiled — he, or some one else, had regulated the clocks yesterday ; and yet — the 
clocks would not keep together ! 

Clocks have been remarkable for having a will and a way of their own since their 
invention : one would almost fancy it impossible for so much obstinacy to be enclosed 
in such proper, discreet-looking mahogany cases. But these two clocks appear to us 
to be more opposed to each other's opinions than any clocks we ever met before. 
When first we came, if the hall clock struck three, the clock on the landing would 
remain most obstinately silent for about three quarters of an hour, when it would, in 
a loud and decided tone of voice, proclaim the hour to be two ; in another quarter 
the hall commander would maintain the justness of his own opinion by striking four, 
which statement the landing clock would reply to some time after by saying it was 
three ; the housemaids seemed to think the landing clock was the most correct, 
because "it was the ouldest." The waiter, Jerry, put faith in neither, but, treating 
both with disrespect, always appealed to his "own repater," which he said kept good 
Cork time. We thought the cook must have had an oracle of her own, for she certainly 
did not keep time either with the hall or the landing. The three-quarters opposition 
had ceased during the last two days : but the two clocks had gone oft' on another 
tack ; the hall clock would begin gravely and soberly to tell forth the hour, and, 
supposing it was five, when it struck as far as three, whir! bang! the landing clock 
would begin — strike, strike, strike, as fast as possible, until it got on to the insane 
number of thirteen or fifteen, when, as if out of bi-eath from the exertion, it would 
make a sudden pause, and then mutter one or two click clicks, as much as to 
say, " I talked him down." We asked the housemaid what she had to say to her 


favourite after that; and she replied, that "the hands -were right enough, but that it 
had grown weak inside from hard work." The clocks were evidently of opposite 
parties, so opposed to each other that they would not work together : whatever one 
proclaimed right, the other protested to be wrong. The one in the hall had four 
anchors at the four corners of its fair clean face, emblematic, doubtless, of its maker's 
hope that it would keep good time. There are castles and a ship at the top — Black 
Rock Castle, perhaps; the maker's name, " James Byrom, Cork," a right good name. 
Now for the one, the opposition clock, that will not hear what his neighbour has to 
say, but ivill talk him down ; while the other, just as violently, continues on his own 
course. The landing clock is simply ornamented with a bunch of roses, "James 
Byrom, Cork!" both by the same maker, both made in the same town, both probably 
by the same hands, both perhaps out of the very same tree ! — yet — no harmony 
between them ; rather than go together they will both go wrong : if the clockmaker 
set them alike, and we think they are proceeding harmoniously together, some shake, 
or "filthy pebble in the wheel of justice," is sure to set them at loggerheads again : 
if they jog on in clicking amity for half an hoiir, be sui"e they differ upon some mite, 
some flaw, some thread of time, in which neither is right ; and so away they go, in 
error both, and, what is worse, setting tJie whole house by the ears, because of their 
trumpery party differences, which, like those of the Big-endians and Little-endians of 
Gulliver, lead to nothing and end in nothing. 

But it is a thing of moment to be ready in time for our car — inculcating a lesson 
of punctuality in others by being punctual ourselves. So we agree to "never mind " 
the clocks, but attend to Jerry's watch, which is "always with Cork;" and the 
driver, Jerry Sullivan, being as quick and anxious to gratify us as the waiter, Jeny 
Connor, we migrated from the dwelling-house to the covered car. It is a sort of 
miniature waggon; and though the wind still blows, and the rain still poiu's, we heed 
neither, but drive through the Mucross gate. Certainly the Kerry people are the 
civilest and gentlest in all Ireland — ever ready and good-natured. It pours inces- 
santly ; yet the driver, Jerry, heedless of the rain, only hopes we shall get a view of 
something, for we deserve it. The beautiful cows are grouped under the trees that 
so often afford them shelter — but now each leaf is a water-spout. We can only 
distinguish the outline of the Abbey — pour — pour — the lake has overflowed all its 
banks, and we splash through the water where the road is generally high and dry. 
Suddenly, as we arrive at Brickecn Bridge, the rain ceases, and while we get out of the 
car the sun bursts forth through the gorged clouds ; the face of nature has a damp, 
drowned aspect, yet words convey no idea of the effect of the sudden sunshine on the 
landscape ; the view, both to the right and left, created, as it were, in a moment by the 
sudden burst of light, is magical ; the clouds roll up the mountains — woods, hills, valleys, 
rocks, cascades, are all illuminated : but, in less time than we have taken to write 
this line, the sun is again enclosed by a wall of black clouds ; the vapours pour down 
the mountains, and we are thankful, as we ought to be, for the shelter of the " covered 
car." We dash through the drive that girdles the beautiful demesne ; up hill and 
down dale ; Jerry pausing every now and then, and exclaiming, * ' Oh ! den, but it is 
a pity ! derc is a beautiful view, just dere ! — AVeil, praise to de Almighty, but it is a 
wonderful day of rain, and no end to it." We get out at Dinis Island, and walk 
through the pouring shower to the best point for seeing the Old Weii-. Ay ! that is 
indeed worth seeing — it is almost impossible to believe we have ever glided under 


that arch, as if floating on air ; the mountain streams are rushing down on every side ; 
they have roused the lake ; torrent meets torrent in fierce encounter ; they lash each 
other, and foam and raise their crested heads, until the Old Weir bridge seems to 
sink into the raging flood. It is really very glorious — " well worth the trouble ?" — 
yes, certainly — venj well worth seeing, although it be of all others the thing in 
nature most distasteful — a beauty in a passion ! 

Again the rain has ceased — paused suddenly. According to Jerry, "de day has 
taken up for good;" and, after a little more driving, we arrive at the gate that 
admits to the path leading to the Tore Waterfall. We climb the ascent, slippery 
thoi;gh it is ; and certainly the waterfall is magnificent — roaring in its pride of power 
as it dashes on — one mass of crystal foam over the ledge ; we never saw it in such 
perfection. The surrounding woods are so dark and heavy from recent rain that the 
foaming torrent looks doubly bright; in general, there is a yellow tone of colour, 
as if some clayey matter was mingled with the water ; but here every drop is clear 
— pure — transparent — pellucid. From the height where we stand to the lowest fall 
it is one mass of sparkling crystal : the sunbeams fall occasionally upon the haze 
that floats like a halo above the falls, imparting the hues of earth's brightest gems to 
the trembling dews — violet and amber — a hundred tints of light and glory. 

As we entered our hotel the clocks were at loud variance ; the hall clock delibe- 
rately beating three, while that on the landing rattled on — ding — ding — ding — until 
it paused, from fatigue it is supposed, at twelve. 

"The clocks are gone to folly," said Jerry; "but it is well to have a repater in 
the house that keeps Cork time." 

Courteous reader ! Has our wet day wearied you ? N'ot, perhaps, if you have been 
actually shut up, because the pour, pour, has kept you a prisoner ; and, if you have 
had no rain, you have been better occupied than in testing the truth of this picture. 
We shall try your patience, however ; for having described a wet day at Cloghreen, we 
must, in common fairness, describe one at the Victoria ! 

We had attended service in the pretty church of Aghadoe. After service we had 
a delightful drive through the Headley Woods, catching occasional glimpses of the 
lakes and the surrounding scenery ; the coney and the hare crossing the road and 
bounding up the tangled banks every moment. We hastened through the drives ; for 
the mountains were backed by a deep lurid light, and huge drops of rain Splashed 
amid the trees — mountain mutterings told of the coming storm. We had hardly 
reached the shelter of our hotel when the thunder began in right down earnest ; and 
glorious it was — commencing behind the Reeks, rushing through the Gap of Dunloe 
— then, bursting forth anew above the Toomies, and shaking the echoes of Glena, 
pealing hoarsely through the glens and fastnesses of Mangerton — broad hoary Man- 
gerton ! — while the lightning played like a diadem around the beautiful brow of Tore. 
We sat at the open window of the Victoria, which commanded a panoramic view of 
the mountains we have named — Inisfallen sleeping in the dark waters of the lake 
beneath. Every other sound was hushed — even the rail ceased its croaking; — all 
was silent, save the eagle, whose broken wing secured its liberty in the grounds 
of the hotel ; and as it sat upon the garden-seat, its head outstretched to the 
mountains, to which it could never soar, it answered each fresh peal of thunder with 
a scream, bending as if to listen for the echoes, which, rolling amid the mountains, 
now loudly, now indistinctly, were indeed most glorious ! Sometimes the thunder 



crashed as if one fierce cloud encountered another — and then the royal hird clapped 
his wing, as if in triumph. We would have given much to have seen him soaring 
away through the storm — one of the grandest, the boatmen said, they had witnessed 
for many years. 

And now that we have advised the reader how even out of a wet day at Killarney 
he may obtain some enjoyment, let us bid the pleasant subject farewell ; in so far as 
the Lakes are concerned, that is to say — for we have yet to take the Tourist round the 
wild sea coast. 

The Tourist who follows in our track will not require to be told that we have 
rendered very insufficient justice to the exceeding beauty of the Killarney Lakes ; or 
that we have passed over some objects of great interest and value, from which he will 
not fail to derive amusement, instruction, and enjoyment. It is indeed difficult, if 
it be not actually impossible, to convey a notion of the numerous and wonderful 
attractions of these Lakes. The pen of the writer and the pencil of the artist will 
equally fail to picture them, for they are undergoing perpetual changes that cannot 
be described ; and it will not be easy to recognise at noon, or at evening, the scenes 
that may have been closely examined, and even copied, in the morning ; so infinitely 
varied are the effects produced by the peculiar fluctuations of light and shade that 
occur over the whole district — the islands, the shores, the water, and the mountains. 

Yet, we trust, our main purpose has been worked out ; — to supply an agreeable 
and useful Companion to those who visit the district, and to increase the number of 
Tourists thither, by exhibiting the almost inexhaustible fund of enjoyment supplied 
by the "Killarney Lakes." 




>irR duty is by no means done, although we have left "the 
Lakes." We shall ask the reader to accompany us to the 
wild sea-coast of the south-west, and the Tourist to follow 
us into a district where the graceful beauties of Killarney 
may be contrasted with the wild grandeur of scenery cer- 
tainly unsurpassed in Ireland. That district is now visited 
by a large number of those who visit Killarney ; and one of 
the special objects of our latest tour was to describe the 
routes to it, with the facilities for travelling and accommoda- 
tion ; and at the same time, to picture its peculiarities, as 
well as our limited space and opportunities permit us to do. 
In this book we have already described the road between Killarney 
and Kenmare ; that which, passing through Cloghreen, by the Tore 
"Waterfall, close to Derricunnihy, up the hill, to the "Constabulary 
Barrack," and by the side of Lough Luis-na-caragh, conducts to a wild and 
barren district, along a good and level road, to the town of Kenmare, dis- 
tant twenty miles from " the Lakes." * It is from this town we shall begin 
our tour ; although, as we shall explain, the sea-coast may be reached by 
other routes. 

There are, perhaps, few towns in Ireland which possess so many capabilities as 
Kenmake : the Bay is among the largest, safest, and best ; there is a good quay ; 
the river is crossed by a pretty suspension bridge — numerous streams run into it; 
its situation, as regards England, is convenient ; the sea, and rivers, and lakes are 
stored with fish ; it is on the high road from two populous and much frequented 
districts. In fact, ]S"ature has abundantly enriched Kenmare with all that can furnish 
wealth and increase prosperity. Yet it has no trade, nor the semblance of any; 
neither does there seem to be a prospect of turuing its vast natural advantages to 
account, either by fisheries, mines, or manufactures. Yet there is ample evidence of 

* We adopt the following description of a new road from Kenmare to Killarney, which we regret to sa}' we neglected 
to visit. "There is also scenery of great beauty to the west of the. Lakes of Killarney, at present very little known, partly 
from want of roads, and partly from want of hotel accommodation. A new road has just been opened by Mr. G-eorge Preston 
White, through his estate, of about two miles in length, near tlie upper lake, which now enables tourists to drive all round 
the lakes, which they could not do formerly, and which was a great disadvantage. This new route opens up scenery of the 
most charming cliaracter; the new drive round the lakes is about thirty miles in length, and there is certainly not in 
the Queen's dominions a more charming tour tlian this route unfolds. The tourist had better first proceed tlirough the Gap 
of Dunloe, rather than return that way, because the view which bursts upon the sight on reaching the summit of the Gap, 
would not have the same effect by reversing the route. It possesses tlie advantage also of presenting another view of 
the lakes near Luisscauiigli Lough, which comes suddenly into view, and which does not present the same advantage in 
coming in the opposite <lireTtion. For these and other reasons, therefore, the tourist is recommended first to drive or ride 
through the Gap of Dunloe, when on reaching the sinnmit of the Gap, that glorious view unexpectedly and suddenly bursts 
upon the spectator. Here the upper lake is, at it were, mapped out at your feet, displaying its beam if iilly irregular outline 
with its wooded islands, whilst on the left, in solemn grandeur, lies the Purple Valley, tlie most (l<'(i'lf(l appi'oach to the 
sublime of anything at Killarney." It is intended to build an hotel on this estate ; it will add materially to the accommo- 
dation and enjoyment of tourists. 


unexplored mineral wealth ; the productive mines of Berehaven are not far off; and 
from its lakes into the sea there is wasted water-power suflB.cient to turn every spindle 
in Manchester. 

Our business, however, is to guide the Tourist on a pleasure excursion, and not to 
tell him how and where to mourn over the sins against Nature, which those commit 
who, possessing power to "do good and to distribute," forget that " to whom much is 
given from him much will be required." 

While resting at the comfortable " country" inn at Kenmare, the Tourist (especially 
if he be an angler) should give a day to the southern side of the bay, visiting the 
lovely lakes of Clonee, that of Glenmore, the harbour of Killmichaeloge, and the 
adjacent mountains, from the summit of which we look upon the Bay of Bantry ; that 
beautiful bay is seen on the one side, while the almost as beautiful Bay of Kenmare is 
in full view on the other. "We cannot find space to describe minutely this charaiing 
route ; but we must say to the Tourist a word or two of entreaty that he will visit 
the Lakes of Clonee : they are distant but seven miles from Kenmare, and the road to 
them has many attractions — the mountains to the left, the bay to the right, midway 
in which is Dinish Island with its ruined church. A rugged hill bv-road leads along 
a wild valley to these lovely lakes. Lower and upper Clonee and Lough Inchiquin 
are united by small but rapid rivers : they contain islands gi'accfully wooded. Huge 
mountains look down upon them ; and at the extremity is a rich tract of alluvial soil, 
on which there is a farmhouse, inhabited by a "strong" farmer, who is ever willing 
to assist the angler — to lend his boats, to lend his flies, to lend (in the Irish way) his 
bacon, his potatoes, and his whisky. From all we could learn there is no "water" 
in Kerry more full of fish — the salmon in their season, the white trout generally, and 
the brown trout always. The place is little known, and seldom trodden. Fair fishing 
is free, or at least only taxed by the duty of a message to the agent of the Marquis of 
Lansdowne, to whom the property belongs. But if the angler throw his fly all day 
without "a rise," his day will not have been ill-spent if he look about him. From 
all the hill-sides pour contributory streams : — 

" And rushing from their native hills, 
The voices of a thousand rills 
Come shouting down the mountain sides ! " 

Tourist or angler, let him ascend the mountain that bounds Lough Inchiquin : visiting 
on his way the dark and gloomy lake of Napeasta, surrounded by rocky, barren, and 
precipitous steeps, and completely hemmed in, except at the small opening by which 
its waters find a passage to the lower lakes. Having climbed this mountain — what a 
prospect I The view obtained from the summit is indeed sublime ; it is scarcely 
possible to conceive aught grander than the expanse of ocean, lake, and mountain. 
In the immediate foregi'ound is Kenmare Bay : then appear the Macgillieuddy's Reeks, 
with the fantastic peaks of Carran Tuel ; a little to the right is the Gap of Dunloe, 
its mountain barriers seeming like huge perpendicular walls ; in fact, from this point 
of view, you look right through "the G;q)." To the west are Ballinskellig Bay, the 
Skellig Rocks, and Valencia Island ; and more to the north the magnificent Bay of 
Dingle, with its great mountain barriers ; to the south is Bantry Bay, with Glcngariff 
— the whole district being covered with innumerable mountain lakes. But the leading 
feature of the scene is the broad ocean, which presents itself, broken by great projecting 
headlands from this point of view. The journey of a day, made on this, the southern 



side of Kenmare Harbour, miglit in truth supply materials for a full volume ; but we 
must hasten back to Kenmare, for it is by the northern road the Tourist will usually 
travel unless he cross the bay — boats being obtainable at Colleras, Ardgroom, or 
Ballycrovane — charming bays in miniature, that aflPord shelter from all winds ; they 
will convey across to Sneem Harbour, where there is a convenient country inn, and 
where the inn-keeper has a horse and car "ready," or a boat if the Tourist desire to 
make excursions seaward ; or to visit the opposite, from this, side of the Bay.* But it 
may be, and is, a question whether on the northern side we may not visit or examine 
scenery as wonderful and beautiful as that we have described. | 

By this — the northern — road the Tourist is on his way round the coast. A mile 
or two out of Kenmare are the ancient ruins of Dunkerron Castle, once the hospitable 

seat of the 0' Sullivan Mor ; and Cappanacuss, 
another shattered castle, of the same family. 
The mind will, however, soon seek and find 
relief, gazing on the chimney tops of Dromore 
Castle — the seat of "the Mahoneys" — a family 
long renowned, and still famous, for hospitality. 
A mere glance at the stately residence will 
suffice to convey assurance that the lord is a 
resident, improving not only his land but his 
tenantry, rendering the one productive and 
the other prosperous ; yet losing none of the 
ancient repute which describes the gate as 
ever open to the stranger, and the sympathy 
ever ready for all. Farther on, the river 
Blackwater flows into the bay. The river 
rushes through a deep ravine, the steep sides 
of which are thickly wooded. Its source is a 
small dark lake — Lough Brin — among the 
Dunkerron mountains ; and near its mouth it is 
crossed by a bridge of two lofty arches, passing 
over a chasm of great depth. This is the river 
which the angler in the south knows and loves 
best. There is usually here a certainty of sport, although its length is but four miles 
from its source to its mouth. A very neat and comfortable inn is established here, and 

* We maj' here take advantage of an opportunity to state that all along this coast, and, indeed, along the whole coast 
of Ireland, will be found, at certain intervals, the stations of the coast-guard ; they are usually occupied by three or four 
of tlie men — invariably stead}', well-conducted, and obliging, and alwa3's ready to advise and assist the Tourist. These 
men are seamen of the navy; generally one of them is married, and the wife superintends the domestic arrangement of 
the " settlement." The officer in command is, of course, somewhere in the district, and, it is needless to say, will be ever 
at hand to assist the traveller in case of any difficulty. It may be worth a note to add that, in this force, the country has 
eight thousand " able seamen " — trained and disciplined, hardy, healthy, and in the prime of life — available at a day's 
notice, in the event of their services being required to man a fleet. 

t In a nook which leads to Lough Glenmore and overlooks the charming harbour of Killraichaeloge, resided in 
1860, and probably does so still, in a small and very poor hostelrie, which he keeps, the lineal representative of the Mac 
Sweenys — once lords of the whole of the district on wliich the tourist loolcs from either of the adjacent hills. The family 
were dispossessed of their estates so far back as the reign of Elizabeth, when they became, by right of conquest, the pro- 
perty of the ancestors of the Manjuis of Lansdowne, to whom the Mac Sweenys then and thereafter became tenants. 
The history of their eventual transfer from the tenant to the landlord is .just the "old story" — want of forethought and 
pnjdence, and a reckless disregard of "to-morrow." Tlie cln'ef of a principal branch of the O'SuUivans, another princely 
family of the district, now "fallen from their high estate," resides in the immediate neighbourhood, and occupies a posi- 
tion no higher than tliat of a snug farmer. There is, surely, here matter for history that might sui-pass romance. 




perhaps no locality combines so many attractions : the angler is not only free to fish, 
but the liberal owner of the water will rejoice to learn his success.* The village of 
Sneeji is soon reached, and then AVest Cove ; the road is but a continuation of 
delicious scenery — moiintain, river, lake and ocean. If the pleasure of the Tourist 
tends that way, he should diverge a mile or two from the road to visit the singular 
ruin of Staig Foet ; a circular building, of massive stones, without mortar, although 
so closely knit that it is scarcely possible to remove one of them. Antiquaries have 
no data as regards this remarkable ruin : but it is unquestionably among the most 
ancient remains of the country, and was no doubt constructed as a place of shelter 
during wars between chiefs who have long been dust. 

From "West Cove, the Tourist will proceed to Derrtixaxe, en route to AVaterville, 
where he will rest awhile, for here there are two "hotels" — one of them fitted up 
entirely for his special accommodation. But Derrynane cannot be dismissed in a 
paragraph; it has, and will long have, a place in history. It was here " the Liberator " 
or " the Agitator " — call him Avhich you will — had his only real home ; here, where 
the waves of the Atlantic gave him health and strength, "the great advocate of 
Ireland " threw off the shackles of politics and party, and became the hospitable host, at 
whose board every comer, hostile or friendly, was a welcome guest. The Tourist, no 
matter what may be his creed, religious or political, who walks the paths of this 
demesne, listens to the wild rush of ocean against huge cliff's, visits the small ruin on 
a small island close by, or stands in the little bay, where the waters seem hushed 
as if listening to the fierce clamour of the waves outside — cannot do this without 
homage to the memory of one of the most remarkable men of any age or country. A 
shame it will be to Ireland if this " bit of land" be suffered to pass away from his 
descendants. The family reside at Derrynane ; and there will be no difficulty, we 
believe, in the way of any stranger visiting the place. 

The road that passes above the dell in which lies Derrynane House, is now one of 
the best roads in Ireland ; but the Tourist will see "the old road," and wonder how 
it was ever possible for horse or carriage to ascend or descend the hills and the valleys 
over which it passes : yet, until within a few years of his death, 0' Council had no 
other way to his home by the ocean among the mountains. 

To enjoy a full view of the all-glorious scene that now presents itself, the visitor 
need not leave the car — he is high enough above it ; to mount one of the adjacent hills 
is needless : he looks out upon the ocean — the broad Atlantic ; that distant island is 
"Scariff : " that nearer to him is "Dinish : " nearer still are "Melaun" and "Headed" 
islands : immediately below is the Abbey Island, no doubt a dependency on the great 
abbey of Ballinskcllig ; the remains of a ruined chapel are still there, and still it is a 
place of pilgrimage, the interest of which has been augmented a thousand-fold. 
There are a score of islets thereabouts — all of which have names, and they shelter one 
of the prettiest harbours that can be found on any coast ; it is ever tranquil, no matter 
how fiercely winds and waves may rage without. We look down on the whole of 
this magnificent scene ; the huge cliffs that enclose the small haven and the islands 
that protect it, the bold headlands, the venerable ruin, the clump of trees that hide 
the house, the grand sweep of rugged heath, and rock, and bog that lie between us 

* Among the other attractions of the Blackwater, it may be mentioned that there is a regatta here every year, and 
that yachtmeu find "good anchorage" from Blackwater to Kenmare. 



and the sea ; there will be no hesitation in pronouncing this scene as among the most 
magnificently beautiful to be found in any country of the world. 

We must hurry on ; a few miles and we arrive at "Wateeville, distant ten miles 
from West Cove, West Cove being distant from Kenmare thirty miles. A good day's 
work has been done, therefore, and the Tourist will look for rest. 

The proprietor of large estates in this district has built a neat and sufficiently 
large house beside Lough Currane for the express accommodation of Tourists ; it was 
a wise thought. It is about a mile distant from a poor village. In this village 
there is an inn of the old class, where those will go who consider active zeal and ready 
service as "sets-off" against modern improvements. The stately hotel is "The 
Hartopp Arms ; " the comfortable inn is "The Butler's Arms ;" the traveller will take 
his choice. Here he is within reach of many of the principal coast and inland views 

•'-4. -^ -i^,^=rar 


of KeiTy ; the former we have in part described, and the remainder are before us. 
Lough Currane has been long famous for its attractions to the angler ; in the season — 
indeed, in all seasons — the lake is full of trout, but the salmon is the temptation 
here. As usual, there are in attendance men who have boats and furnish flies.* 

* To those -who liave experience in the art, it is hardly necessary to say that to take a book of iiies to any of these lakes 
is idle ; they are at once put aside as useless ; but the angler will do well to be provided with feathers and the " mate- 
rials " of various sorts. He will be always sure to find in tlie neighbourhood— wherever he may happen to be— some 
fisherman who will be his guide, and tie for him the flies fittest for the water over which they are to be thrown. 


-- .,://'A::^/:^.Lj.^/J/yZ//A 


Lough Currane is a charming spot, only partially \roocled, but containing 
several pretty islands, on one of which is a group of interesting ruins — that of an 
ancient chapel being still used as a burial-place. It is one of a chain of lakes ; those 
among the surrounding hills being, we understand, still more beautiful and more 
productive of sport. If the Tourist look across the bay, he will see the ruins of 
Ballinskellig Abbey ; it is but six miles distant, and will amply repay a visit. 

We continue our route, and at the end of a few miles come in. sight of Cahirciveen : 
this is the town of the district, commanding the whole trade of the country within a 
circuit of nearly forty miles, north, south, and east ; while to the west is the Isla^^d 
OF Valencia. Yet Cahirciveen is little better than it was thirty years ago — a dull 
town, that conveys no idea of either activity or prosperity, although its advantages 
are large and many. It has one object that may interest the Tourist. A mile or so 
distant is a ruined house, overgrown with ivy, pleasantly situate in a wooded dell 
beside a river. It is the birthplace of Daniel O'Connell ; and the remains of the 
room in which he was born are still shown to the curious or patriotic visitor."^' 

Before we reach Cahirciveen, proceeding from AVaterville, we turn off to the 
Ferry — less than a quarter of a mile in length — by which we cross to reach the 
renowned island of Valencia. Valencia is the property of Fitzgerald, the Knight of 
Kerry. He is an excellent, considerate, and enterprising landlord ; and if there be, here 
and there, in his "dominions" evidence of miseiy, or, at all events, of indifference to 
decency and comfort, the evil arises from circumstances he can, as yet, neither change 
nor control. The Knight resides at Glanleam, a charming wooded demesne at the 
north-east shore of the island, and finds ample occupation in striving to make 
contented, happy, and comparatively prosperous, the isolated, simple, and interesting 
people, numbering about two thousand, whom Providence has placed under his rule. 
It is not too much to say that the heroic qualities of this branch of the Geraldines 
have remained with their descendants.! 

The island is six and three quarter miles in length by two and a half miles in 
breadth. It has been long famous for KeiTy cows — a veiy beautiful little animal, 
when of the pure kind, which gives an abundance of rich milk. The Knight has 
been very studious to preserve here the true breed, that has much deteriorated in 
nearly all other parts of the county. One of the neatest and best inns of the south 
of Ireland is at Knightstown, which adjoins the Ferry, and which, indeed, is the only 
collection of houses on the island. It is not our business to do more than allude to 
the controversy that has long been carried on as to whether Valencia ought or ought 
not to be the great "Packet Station" of the two hemispheres ; but if it do not belong 
to us to report concerning the depth of water, the haven in which the navies of both 

* The house is a picturesque ruin, richly clad in luxurious ivy; it must have been a good house in its prime, and the 
neighbouring scenery waa no doubt attractive ; for there is much foliage about it, and it is adjacent to a river. Altliough 
restoration is out of the question, it would be well if some steps were taken to preserve the remains, and to keep them 
with some degree of neatness and order. 

t Tlie Tourist in this neighbourhood, especially if he has any knowledge of Ireland in old times, will expect a passing 
tribute of respect to the memory of the late Knight of Kerrj', tlie father of the gentleman to whom the honours of the 
race have descended. His lot was cast in an age less favourable than the present ; he was a pioneer as regards very 
mauy of the recent improvements introduced not only into his county, but into his country. He had large intluence 
which he exercised for the good of both ; no man was more respected, and few men Iiave been more beloved, than the 
Bight Hon. Maurice Fitzgerald. He largely shared in all the wiser counsels of later times by which Ireland haa been 
served and its welfare promoted ; and his name should be recoi-ded with honour and gratitude by all who have the interests 
of Ireland at heai't — more especially when associated with a district for wliicU he laboured, as a resident, generous, high- 
minded, and hospitable gentleman, for upwards of half a century. 



nations may ride in safety, sheltered from all variations of the four winds, we may, at all 
events, speak of the picturesque beauty of this fine harbour. Mountain cliffs so 
completely environ it as to make it resemble a huge lake : yet it is separated but a few 
yards from the Atlantic ; and the ship will have scarcely weighed anchor before she is 
in the open sea — exchanging smooth water for the rough billows while the helmsman 
might count a dozen.* From the Knight's garden-seat there is a glorious view. The 
"light" is just under him, standing at the end of a line of sea-rocks. Huge cliffs, 

full of singular caves, are seen on the promontory opposite : far out at sea are those 
remarkable islands, the Skelligs ; and, turning in another direction, are the islands — 
the Blasquets — among which Mount Brandon seems to rear its lofty crest, although 
in reality on the mainland some thirty miles distant. Looking to the right — still 
seated in this lovely little garden, with its trim walks under trees among rocks — 
are seen the summits of the Reeks, old Carran Tuel rising above them all. It is 
indeed a charming spot we are picturing — where the Tourist who loves nature may 
have rare delight. 

The slate quarries have long been famous : they are now worked by the Valencia 
Slate Slab Company, of which Mr. J. G. Magnus is the managing director. They 

* The railway at Killamey, by being extended forty miles, would convey passengers from London to the Island in eighteen 
houi-s. The island is the nearest point in Europe to the American continent. 


are, consequently, now in good hands ; the name of that gentleman gives sufficient 
guarantee that they are all worked to the best advantage. These quarries are chiefly 
renowned for the very large dimensions of the slabs; which are, consequently, of 
great value in the important works of Mr. Magnus and others. The blocks are 
sawn and shaped as well as raised in the island ; and we understand the demand far 
exceeds the supply. 

In the island, also, is the "Tenninus" of the cahle of the Atlantic Telegraph 
Company. It was worked for a short time in 1858, messages having been conveyed 
from Valencia to ^Newfoundland. In October of that year, however, the "wire" 
broke ; but there can be no doubt that ere long a complete restoration will be effected, 
and we shall know what takes place in America an hour after incidents have occurred ; 
Yalencia recovering the proud position it for a time occupied. 

Uut the visit to Yalencia must not be too short to forbid a visit to the "wester- 
most" part of the island — Bray Head. The Tourist will pass on his way two of 
those singular grave-yards peculiar to the south-west ; and of which we understand 
there are in Valencia no fewer than four — conclusive proofs that the island must have 
been thickly populated in remote ages. They are grave-yards devoted exclusively 
to infants, such as had not undergone the rite of baptism ; the graves being formed 
of stones, with stones at the head and foot, with a single larger slab as the covering ; 
they have continued to this day to keep the forms they received many centuries figo. 
They lie as close as they can be, and many hundreds may be counted in either of the 
enclosures — the walls around which can be distinctly traced. In the centre of one 
of these grave-yards is an Ogham stone, while a hill immediately adjacent contains a 

The "walker" to Eray Head — although it is distant a few miles from Knight's- 
town — will receive ample recompense ; there is a good car-road nearly all the way. 
What a glorious view is obtained from the summit ! standing beside an old, but not 
an ancient, watch-tower, you gaze in all directions on objects singular, striking, 
or sublime. Far out in ocean, are the famous sea-rocks, the Skelligs. They rank 
among the most remarkable curiosities of the Atlantic. 

They were formerly celebrated as the resort of pilgrims ; and many a weary 
penance has been performed upon their naked and inhospitable crags. The great 
fSkellig consists of two peaks, which rise from the ocean so perpendicularly as closely 
to approximate to the shape of a sugar-loaf : the larger aising m thirty-four fathoms 
of the ocean to 710 feet above its level ; the occasional projections being clothed with 
grass of "a delicious verdure and remarkable sweetness." The island is, at all times, 
nearly covered with sea-fowl ; a circumstance for which Dr. Keating, the fanciful 
"historian" of Ireland, thus accounts: — "There is an attractive virtue in the soil, 
which draws down all the birds that attempt to fly over it, and obliges them to light 
upon the rock;" a notion of which the poet Moore has availed himself: — 

" Islets so freshly fair 

That never hath bird come nigh them, 
But, frcini his course through air, 

Hath been won downwaid by them." 

The peasantry have numerous tales to tell in connection with these singular rocks ; 
and a whimsical tradition exists, that every madman, if left to his own guidance, 



would make his way towards them. They have, however, of late years, lost much of 
their "sacred" character, and are now-a-days visited by very few penitents.'''' 

"We have detained the Tourist at Valencia somewhat long ; but he will not complain 
if our notes induce him to visit the island, to seek and obtain rest in its pleasant inn, 
to examine its sources of natural wealth, to enjoy its magnificent views of sea and 
shore, islands and mountains, its relics of remote ages, its fine and very beautiful 
harbour, its many objects of interest in natural history, and its sure promise of 
prosperous commerce and in-flowing wealth hereafter. 

The Tourist on regaining the mainland will drive into Cahirciveen, about two miles 
from the Perry : here he will take either the public or a private car, to drive either 
to Tralee or to Killarney. 

"We shall endeavour briefly to conduct him to both. 

We are now leading the Tourist from Cahirciveen to Killarney, a distance of forty 
miles by the coach road. We are travelling by the public car, which runs daily from 
the one town to the other. It may be well to add, however, that private cars may be 
obtained at Cahirciveen as well as at Killarney, but it is a common and a wise 
custom for those who make this tour, and are not pressed for time, to hire the carriage 
at the hotel in Killarney, and continue with it "all the way round." It is absolutely 
marvellous what labour these mountain-bred horses can get through, "thinking 
nothing" of thirty miles a day, for days together, or even fifty miles in a single 
day ; the machines they draw are light, and the driver will always walk up the hills. 

For a long way, indeed about half the distance, the road runs above the beautiful 
Bay of Dingle ; often along the very brink of giant precipices, always in sight of the 
grand harbour, the wild coast opposite, and the mountains, that sometimes seem so near 
as to throw their shadows over the sea. 

From an ascent, as we leave the town, we look back on the small island in 
Valencia Harbour ; it contains one of those singular stone cells, similar to those 
that are found on the great Skellig, and which are attributed to recluses of the 
sixth century, with an ancient stone tomb or chapel close by ; while on the north-east 
side of the harbour stands the ruined Castle of Ballycarberry ; there is here one of 
those singular forts, that, like Staig Fort, has no history, and concerning which even 
tradition is silent. It is this harbour — that of Valencia — which connects Cahirciveen 
with the sea, and supplies it with natui'al advantages of which, unhappily, there have 
been few to avail themselves. We pursue our route, still by Dingle Bay, until we 
reach Castlemaine Harbour, which is, in reality, but a continuation of that of Dingle, 
stretching inland. We gaze over a pretty creek, Rossbegh, where, on the main road, 
there is a good hotel ; for this is the bathing-place of the district, with its many neat 
and pretty lodges for the accommodation of visitors. As we pass along we obtain a 
charming view of a calm and pleasant nook that, nestling among high hills, draws in 
the milder sea-breezes, and gives them out in health. 

This is the resting-place of those who fish in Lough Carha — a charming lake 
which we leave to the right in travelling to Killarney. It is environed by hiUs, some 

* Dr. Smith gives a striking account of the perils through which the penitents passed. To the top of the Great 
Skellig there is but one path, and that so difficult that few people are hardy enough to attempt it. Upon the flat part of 
the island are several cells, said to have been chapels — for "here stood anciently an abbey of canons regular of St. 
Austin.'" " They are built in the ancient Roman manner, of stone curiously closed and jointed, without either mortar 
or cement, and are impervious to the air and wind, having circular stone arches at the top." 


of them wooded, with islands also ; and, although small, it presents to the eye scenery 
only less beautiful than that of the Lakes he is approaching. The traveller obtains a 
fine view of it as he journeys along. The vicinity of Lough Carha has long been a 
teiTa incognita; partly owing to the fact that its beauties were unknown to, and 
consequently undescribed by. Tourists — having been penetrated only by the sportsman, 
for whom it had, and has, temptations irresistible ; and partly in consequence of the 
bad roads that led to it, and the ill accommodation provided for strangers when there. 
These obstructions to its fame are now in a great degree removed. 

The lake may be reached also by a new road from Killarney, branching off from 
the former about ten miles from Killarney, and leading thi'ough a ravine in the 
Reeks called Glouncetane, by the very beautiful lake of Coos, and through the valley 
of Glencar to the upper end of the lake. This road well deserves to be explored, as 
there are few parts of Ireland which exceed the valley of Glencar in wild and solitary 
beauty. The lake of Carha, taking its origin in this valley, runs into Castlemaine 
Bay, by the Carha river, about five miles in length, celebrated for its winter salmon- 
fishing. The length of the lake is about seven miles, and its breadth varies fi'om two 
to four. It is divided into upper and lower. The lower, which is widest and least 
picturesque, is, however, a very fine sheet of water, and contains many objects of 
interest. From this point is obtained one of the best views of the Eeeks. 

After journeying about five miles, all the way with Castlemaine Harbour in sight, 
the Tourist an-ives at Ejlloeglix — a market town of no great importance, but 
exhibiting signs of great misery intermixed with prosperous commerce. Here will 
commence the journey of those who are proceeding to Tralee or Dingle; and here 
another public car conveys passengers into the district further to the west. Hence 
into Killarney there is a good road, which, skirting the river Laune, and passing 
underneath the Eeeks, leaves to the right the pathway to CaiTan Tuel, and the 
entrance to the Gap of Dunloe, and conducts into the town of Killarney.* 

We lead the Tourist, therefore, back to Killorgiin, distant ten miles from Killarney, 
and conduct him to the several points of interest between this town and the Shannon. 
We can, however, do little more than indicate this route — our space is already 
exhausted — and we must pass somewhat rapidly over the remainder of our Toui'. It 
is, indeed, utterly impossible to do it anything like justice ; for all we have said of 
the wild grandeur of the coast between Kenmare and Valencia will apply, with equal 
force, to that promontory which, stretching between Dingle Bay and Tralee Bay, but 
running far out into the Atlantic, contains Ventry Bay, Smerwick Harbour, Brandon 
Bay, and a number of lesser harbours, each of them beautiful : while the sea, rocks, 
cliffs, and islands along the coast are but poorly pictured by the term " sublime." 

He will first pass through the small towns of Miltown and Castlemaine ; Castle- 
maine derives its name from a small river — the Maine — which runs through the town, 
in which formerly stood a strong fortress demolished by "Cromwell." 

►Shortly after passing this, the character of the scenery begins to change. The 
road lies along the edge of the haven, which is bounded by a low, flat shore for some 
miles ; the distant mountains still forming the most attractive feature in the landscape. 
The mouth of the Laune can be distinguished, where the waters of Killarney Lakes 

* It is clear that although we have described the routi from Kenmare, our description may guide the Tourist who takes 
it from Killarney. It may be well also to remind the Tcuiist that there is a railway from Killarney to Tralee. 



join the sea. After passing a sandy promontory, which runs out into Dingle Bay, 
and shuts in the shallower estuary, Castlemaine Harbour, the coast becomes bold 
and rocky. The road continues along the shore of Dingle Bay, and commands a 
most magnificent view. Immediately underneath lie the Avaters of the bay, rolling 
in, uninterrupted, from the Atlantic, and discharging themselves in long breakers, 
even on a calm day, over the rocks. In the distance, the view is bounded by the 


strikingly picturesque outline of the Iveragh mountains, forming the high grounds of 
the promontory at the other side of the bay ; at the extremity of which can be discerned 
the island of Valencia. On the other side of the road rises the ridge of the Brandon 
and Slieve-mish Mountains, which, if it were not in the neighbourhood of Killarney, 
would be considered very fine mountain scenery. 

Dingle is a town of little larger size than Killarney. It is the most western town 
in Europe ; and its full name — Dingie-i-Couch — is an Irish proverb, expressive of 
a very out-of-the-way place. There are two moderately good hotels. The visitor 
will find things here somewhat old-fashioned — as suits the locality. 

Let the Tourist rest at Dingle, and prepare for a short journey of singular interest 
and beauty. We will suppose him to have arrived in the evening. Let him, then, 
on the following morning, take the road by Yentry to Sybil-head. Yentry is the 
centre of the earliest attempt at Protestantising in the west of Ireland, and one of the 
places at which it is said to have been successful. The two adjoining parishes of 
Yentry and Dunquin now contain several congregations attending Protestant worship, 
for whom new churches have been built. "Whatever the opinion of the traveller may 
be of the spiritual results of unquestionably zealous and well-meant exertions in 
this way, there can be but one as to their temporal consequences. The houses about 
Yentry are generally neat, clean, and whitewashed ; the smoke has chimneys to get 
out through, and the light has windows to get in at ; and one at least of John Wesley's 
doctrines, that cleanliness is akin to godliness, seems to have taken hold of the inmates. 
The people appear to be more industrious, and therefore more comfortable. The 
heart-burnings, contentions, and violence which arose at the commencement of the 
"new reformation" in this district, have now ceased; the numbers of Protestant 


proselytes are said not to be increasing as they did at first ; but, happily, the pro- 
fessors of the rival religions live at peace beside each other. 

Passing Ventry, and stopping, if you choose,, to look at the ruins of a small castle 
which shared in the general blowing up of Irish fortresses after 1641, you pursue 
your road to the northward, by Sugar-loaf Mountains, to Sybil-head. Ascending the 
slope of the promontory, you expect, when you reach the summit, to descend to the 
sea, which is shut out from your view until you reach the veiy top : but you suddenly 
find that one half of the hill has been cut completely away by the ocean, and the 
instant you reach the summit you see below you the waves of the Atlantic rolling at 
the foot of a perpendicular clilf of the most stupendous and awful grandeur. Looking 
down from this point, you see on your right a romantic bay — Smerwick Harbour — and 
a portion of the coast, formed by successive hills cut in two by the sea, in the same 
manner as Sybil-head itself. They are called "the Sisters;" and Avhen first they 
attract the eye they have the appearance of a row of sugar-loafs behind each other. 
On the left of the promontory, stretching out into the Atlantic, are the Blasket Islands. 
If the day be windy, you will see eagles soaring about the cliff's ; but if it be calm, 
you must look for them perched on some of the pinnacles of the rocks rising from the 
sea below, where you will be sure to discover at least one. There the monarch of the 
air will sit for hours in solitude, moving nothing but his head, apparently contemplating 
the sublime scene that surrounds him, and listening to the giant waves that lash their 
ceaseless spray on the rocks far below his feet, rendering his resting-place iinapproach- 
able by any other of God's creatures. In contrast to him, at the inland side of the 
hill, you will be frequently passed by the familiar chough, with his glossy black body 
and scarlet legs, shining in the sun. Far out in the ocean, with the aid of a glass, 
you will discern ships on their way to or fi'om the ports of America. How peace- 
fully and securely these distant specks seem to traverse that trackless waste, whose 
unknown terrors so long limited the knowledge and enterprise of civilised man ! You 
stand on the promontory which for ages was deemed the extreme west of the world ! 
The most westerly part of it is, however, not Sybil-head, but on the promontory of 
Dunquin, a little to the south of it, and is called " Tig vourneen Geeran," or " Mary 
Geeran's house." 

On the north-west side of Smerwick Harbour, nearer Drumlin-head, are the 
remains of a Spanish fortification, called " Fort-del-Or." At the southern side of 
Cape Sybil, at the head of a small creek, are the remains of another castle, called 
Sybilla's or Ferriter's Castle. 

If the visitor should have time to visit the Eagle Mountain and Blasket Islands, on 
Dunquin Promontoiy, he will be rewarded by seeing some very magnificent coast and 
rock scenery, and meeting on the islands a singular primitive race of people ; but 
this will occupy more time than most tourists have to spare. An additional historic 
interest is given to these islands from the circumstance that a portion of the Spanish 
Armada was wrecked among them, including an admiral's ship — " Our Lady of the 
Rosary^ Among those who perished was a Spanish Prince — the Prince of Asculi — 
whose burial-place is still shown, near the ruined church at Dunquin. 

Another of the " lions" of Dingle is Mount Brandon. It lies to the north, between 
St. Brandon's Bay and Smerwick Harbour. An energetic Tourist may compass visiting 
this the same day as Sybil-head ; but it will be a very hard day's work. 

Leaving Dingle by the road over Connor Hill, the traveller proceeds to Tralee. 


The way lies through, scenery quite as beautiful as, though altogether" different from, 
any which the Tourist passed on the road we suppose him to have travelled from 
Killarney to Dingle. As he ascends the mountain over Dingle, he still sees below 


him the town and harbour, with the bay stretching out beyond, until he reaches the 
summit level of the road, when it begins to descend along the top of a precipice, 
winding under and above cliffs of much grandeur. The view then completely changes : 
at the opposite side of the valley beneath, it is partly bounded by another mountain, 
and partly expands into a magnificent prospect of the shores of St. Brandon's Bay. 

There is a well-appointed public car, which runs every morning from Dingle to 
Tralee, and travels by this very beautiful road. 

A glance at the map will show that the Tourist in visiting this fine promontory 
has diverged much from the road to Tralee ; which is not more than ten miles from 
Killorglin, and twenty miles from Killarney. 

Tralee is the assize town of the county. It sends a member to parliament ; its 
present representative being " The O'Donoghue." It contains nearly 10,000 inhabitants. 
The new Roman Catholic cathedral of this town- is a remarkably beautiful structure, 
the interior being decorated in much better taste than usual. The remains of several 
ruins are in the vicinity of Tralee : among others, that of an abbey, in which for 
several centuries the Desmonds were buried, the first occupants of its tombs being 
Thomas Fitzgerald, surnamed " the Great," and his son Maurice, who were both 
slain at Callan, in a fight with the Mac Carthy Mor. The most interesting monastic 
remains in Kerry are, however, those of the abbey of Ardfert — about six miles north- 
west of Tralee. Ardfert is a bishop's see, held in commendam with the bishopric of 
Limerick. The ruins of the cathedral are still in good preservation, and bear marks 
of high antiquity. In the western front are fom- round arches, and in the eastern 
front three elegant narrow-pointed windows. On the right of the altar are some 
niches with Saxon mouldings. A round tower, 120 feet high, and built chiefly of a 
dark marble, which formerly stood near the west front, suddenly fell down in 1771. 

Between Tralee and Tarbert, a distance of nearly thirty miles, the road is inland, 
yet at no time far from the sea. There are many places of historic note which the 



Tourist will pass on his way : the principal being Listowel. It is a poor town, with, 
of course, the ruins of a castle. In the year 1600 this castle, which held out for 


Lord Kerry against the Lord President, was besieged by Sir Charles "Wilmot. Lis- 
towel is watered by the Feal, a river which the Irish poet has immortalised in one of 
the sweetest of his songs ; founded on a tradition, that the young heir of the princely 
Desmonds, having been benighted while hunting, took shelter in the house of one of 
his dependants, named Mac Cormac, with whose fair daughter he became suddenly 
enamoured. " He mamed her ; and by this infeiior alliance alienated his followers, 
whose brutal pride regarded this indulgence of his love as an unpardonable degi-a- 
dation of his family." 

A few miles "out of the road" are the far-famed caves of Ballybunian. They 
are not often visited ; yet may be classed among the most remarkable of the natural 
wonders of Ireland. The only county historian alludes to them very briefly : — " The 
whole shore here hath a variety of romantic caves and caverns, formed by the dashing 
of the waves ; in some places are high open arches, and in others impending rocks, 
ready to tumble down upon the first storm." A small volume descriptive of them 
was published in 1834, by Francis Ainsworth, Esq., to whom we must refer the 
reader. They are distinguished by names, each name bearing reference to some 
particular circumstance: as, "the Hunter's Path," from a tradition that a rider once 
rode his horse over it ; " Smugglers' Bay," for centuries famous as a shelter for " free 
traders;" the "Seal Cave," &c. &c. 

From Listowel to Tarbert, the distance is twelve miles and a half : there is a good 
hotel at Tarbert, and here the Tourist is on the mighty Shannon — the largest and 
broadest of island rivers. 



The mouth of the Shannon is grand almost beyond conception. Its inhabitants 
point to a part of the river, within the headlands, over which the tides rush with 
extraordinary rapidity and violence. They say it is the site of a lost city, long buried 
beneath the waves ; and that its towers, and spires, and turrets, acting as breakers 
against the tide- water, occasion the roughness of this part of the estuary. The whole 
city becomes visible every seventh year, and has been often seen by the fishermen 
sailing over it ; but the sight bodes ill-luck. 

Nearly opposite Kilrush is the far-famed island of Scattery, memorable in eccle- 
siastical history, and celebrated as the residence of that ungaUant and un-Irish saint 
— St. Senanus — who having 

" sworn his sainted sod 
Should ne'er by woman's feet be trod," 

refused even to associate with him in his solitude a " sister saint — St. Cannera — whom 
an angel had conducted to the island for the express purpose of introducing to him." 
Eut, if we are to credit the poet, 

" Legends hint that had the maid 
Till morning's light delay'd, 
And given the saint one rosy smile, 
She ne'er had left his lonely isle." 

The coast from Kilrush — on the mainland opposite the island — a pretty and 
fashionable bathing-place, round to K4lkee, which faces the Atlantic, may vie for 
sublime grandeur with that of any part of the kingdom. The two towns are distant 
about eight miles by land ; but, to reach the one from the other by sea, a voyage of 
little short of forty miles would be necessary, for the long and narrow promontory — 
the barony of Moyarta — stretches out between them, and forms the northern boundary 
of the mouth of the Shannon. 

But the Tourist, who begins to consider his journey as finished, will, instead of 
making this visit to the north side of the Shannon, make his way from Tarbert to 
Foynes, with its charming and most convenient harbour ; from Foynes by railway to 
Limerick — through Asheaton, Eathkeale, Adare, and Patrick's Well: thence from 
Limerick to the Junction, through a rich district ; and from Limerick to Waterford, 
to Cork, or to Dublin. 

■^'" u 


;E have thus conducted the reader through the all-heautiful 
district that environs Killarney, described the several 
routes that lead to it, and the various and varied incidents 
that will add attraction to the journey. 

Those who voyage and travel to the Lakes, and who are 
not "hurried," will have seen much of Ireland and of Irish 
character on their way. "We again express our conviction 
that they will return to their homes in happier and more 
prosperous England, with a higher estimation of, and a kindlier 
feeling towards, the country and its people : nevertheless, 

r" xney win ue often startled, saddened, and pained by the knowledge how 
much must yet be done for both, to enable both to take the position that God 
V/w^,-i, and Nature intended them to occupy — and which, of a surety, they will occupy 
at no very distant period. 

The purpose of these remarks is to strengthen, and not to discourage, hope 

and faith in the future of Ireland. That may be best done by describing the 

past and contrasting it with the present : a task of- which those only are 

} capable who knew the country under far more dismal and disheai'tening 

prospects than it now presents. 
We believe we cannot better close this book than by some reference to the un- 
equivocal evidence of improvement our own experience enables us to supply : following 
up the observations we made at the outset, conceming the ease, comfort, rapidity, and 
certainty with which thi; voyage across is now made, as compared with its serious 
evils when it was uncertain, dangerous, and often of so long a duration, that weeks 
were sometimes spent between Port and Port. 

The existing generation can have but a very limited idea of tlie changes for the 
better that have taken place in Ireland during the last forty — twenty — even ten — years. 
Those who are old may make comparisons of Ireland as it W'as and Ireland as it is, 
and rejoice at the result. Who of them will fail to recaU the beggars that used to 
beset him on every highway — in every street. Standing at any hotel door, entering or 
withdrawing from any shop, a terrible crowd was that through which he had to make 
his way. Noisy beggars of both sexes, and of all ages — exposing frightful sores and 
parading miserable diseases — barred the passage ; giving wit, indeed, for money, but 
paining the very soul by wretchedness it was impossible to relieve, and from the 


sight of whicli there was no escape. But what else could be ? The poor had no 
other resource ; they must beg or starve ; it was their only means of life ; and, ever 
and always, in Ireland, charity is a fountain never dry. The Legislature had given 
no thought to the multitude who were aged, maimed, or afflicted with diseases that 
prevented work. There was no Poor Law in Ireland until the year 1838. While, in 
England, the poor had food and clothes and shelter, as natural rights, the Irish had 
none. Now, there are in every district "poor-houses," where every man, woman, 
and child, unable to labour, is provided with a home and its accompaniments — where 
industry is taught as a virtue, and cleanliness inculcated as a luxury. The beggars 
— at all events the more appalling classes of them — are found nowhere throughout 
the country. 

The Tourist who is not young, and can remember old Ireland, may picture the 
Irish dwellings as they were : so deplorably wretched that an English farmer would 
have rejected the best of them as habitations for cattle ; the mud floor, seldom dry ; 
the dilapidated thatch, rarely impervious to rain; the broken window, " stopped up " 
to keep out wind and air; the ever-occurring dunghill before the door; the familiar 
friend the pig, "who paid the rent," — these were but the lesser evils of the cabin of one 
room, in which often a dozen, sometimes twenty, fellow-beings lived. They are 
departing fast: lime is now used profusely; the pig is rarely the inmate of "the 
parlour;" the dunghill is generally behind the house, and not before the door ; the 
cabins of the Irish peasant are gradually approximating to the English cottage. They 
are, indeed, still miserable enough ; and to the inveteracy of habit may be traced 
much of the degradation to which those who inhabit them are subjected. " Our 
nature is subdued to what it works in;" but those who can compare them with the 
" cabins" of thirty years ago, will see a great change for the better, both in the 
exterior and interior of an Irish peasant's " castle." 

In old times — nay, not very old — there was meaning in the sarcasm of the traveller, 
that " he never knew what the English beggars did with their cast-off clothes until he 
visited Ireland ; " and in the story of the Irishman who thought himself " in luck" 
when he exchanged dresses with a scarecrow in an English field. Hags are now 
exceptional cases ; generally the peasant is decently, and often comfortably, clad. At 
least, there is a material diminution of those external signs of penury and suffering 
that not long ago offended the eye and pained the heart of the Tourist in that 

ISTo doubt, to English eyes, there is yet much that requires " change ; " compari- 
sons between the outer aspect of England and Ireland will be discouraging, and 
perhaps humiliating. The yellow "bouchlawn" is still the pest of the fields; and 
an English farmer may even yet complain, as an English grazier did, of the country 
being " brutally used ; " but all the means and appliances for making land productive 
are the introductions of recent periods — the spade, the hoe, and the flail did the work 
of the agriculturist thirty years ago. It is but just and reasonable, we repeat, to com- 
pare the Ireland of to-day with the Ireland of forty, twenty, even ten, years ago ; to 
arrive at right conclusions concerning that country, there must be some knowledge of it 
in the past. "We who have been acquainted with Ireland, by occasional and sometimes 
prolonged visits, since the year 1820, can see and appreciate the great improvements 
that are, in so many ways, perceptible there. It demands no great stretch of memory 
to carry us back to a time when, politically and socially, the Irish were treated as a 


" conquered " people ; forty years ago there was not a Roman Catholic member of any 
Corporate body in Ireland; a Eoman Catholic could not be a "Scholar" in Trinity 
College, a Judge, or a Queen's Counsel — or, in short, be found anywhere on the road 
to preferment : no Eoman Catholic could be a Member of Parliament — none a Lord 
of "the Treasury — none a Governor of a Colony. There are now five Irishmen on the 
English Bench, and one of them is a Eoman Catholic ; and of the twelve Irish Judges, 
eight are Eoman Catholics. The Englishman and Protestant enjoys no privilege, no 
advantage, from which the Legislature debars the Irishman and Eoman Catholic. 
Forty years ago, it was forbidden, under penalties, to ring a bell in any Eoman 
Catholic "Chapel" to call the people to prayer. "Middlemen" farmed more than 
half the lands of Ireland : devouring locusts they were ; generally a low class, insensible 
to any touch of humanity — greedy, remorseless — grinding the poor, and amassing wealth 
out of misery. The middleman is now hardly known in Ireland : that curse has been 
removed. The spii'it of the age — so resolute in advancing and extending freedom and 
equal rights — has marvellously changed for the better the character of Irish land- 
lords. For one bad landlord now, there were ten thirty years ago. Hai'd and 
inconsiderate task-masters are still plenty enough ; but public opinion would consign 
to instant ignominy such merciless exterminators as "flourished" when the fathers of the 
present generation took land. The eternal truth that "property has its duties as well 
as its rights" is now universally admitted, and very generally forms the basis of new 
engagements. Thirty years ago, wages for labour were seldom beyond fivepence a 
day ; the peasant never eat meat, and rarely bread ; he raised his potatoes and lived 
— that was all. The Police were mockeries, notoriously inefficient — made up, chiefly, 
of rogues and spies ; it is now, perhaps, the best force in the world, not only for the 
detection of crime, but for its prevention. As one of them expressed himself to us, 
they "take off" the match before the shell explodes." For discipline, order, activity, 
and integrity they are unsurpassed. Thirty years ago, drunkenness was a distinction, 
and not, as it is now, a shame — to the higher, as well as to the lower classes, it was 
anything but dishonour; in truth, he was " an Irishman all in his glory" who was 
unable to walk home from a feast. Faction fights disgraced every ftte day. 
Hedge-schools were the only seminaries of education. There are now schools in 
every part of the Island, supported, as they ought to be, by annual national grants. 
In a word — forty, thirty, nay twenty, years ago, Ireland was indeed a wretched 
country — made wretched, and kept so, from a cruel and foolish policy that has long 
been bearing its natural frait.* 

But to say that England continues to act unjustly towards Ireland now, is to say that 
which is false and wicked. There is in England, generally, nay, universally, an earnest 
and sincere desti'c to do Justice to Ireland ; and although evil tongues in Ireland may 
rail at England in 1865 more foully than they did — or dared to do — in 1820, they 
fail to excite the hatred they design, — simply because there is no grievance to 
redress, — certainly none for which the British Government and people are unwilling to 
supply a remedy. 

* If hatred of tlie English was strong forty years apo. it was in a measure natural and justiGable ; there was " cause 
showni." When an Irishman was pictured, represented on the stage, or displayed in works of fiction, it was always as a 
person unfitted to be eitlier intimate or friend : as one in whom the vices of sociiU life greatly overbalanced the \"irtues ; 
while those who sought service, and consulted advertisements in a newspaper, found, in nine cases out of ten, that '• no Irish 
need apply." These, and other evils of the kind, were but the lesser evidences of a systematic study to keep the Irish 
away from respect and advancement — forty years ago. 


Twenty years ago, travelling in Ireland had many di^awbacks ; now there are 
admirably managed railways through all the principal districts. Twenty years ago, 
the "hotels" were very badly conducted; now in all leading cities they vie with 
those of England ; while in minor towns they are clean, comfortable, and in many 
ways excellent. 

We trust, therefore, the Tourist in Ireland — when he sees, as he undoubtedly 
will see, much that must lower his spirits and postpone his hopes — will bear in mind 
that not many years ago the state of that country was infinitely worse than it is now. 

"We might go to much greater length into statements of the benefits conferred 
upon Ireland by time and enlightened policy, and especially by the will of the English 
people ; but our leading, if not our sole, object at this moment is to remove an im- 
pression which still, to some extent, prevails, that there will be any annoyances in 
Ireland — such as can lessen the enjoyments of travellers. 

To the " safety " of travelling in Ireland, we have borne the testimony of our own 
experience ; it is sustained by that of every writer who has communicated with the 
public concerning that country and its people. We trust we shall not weary 
the reader if we for a moment recur to this topic. 

The stranger in Ireland is sure of a cordial reception ; whatever domestic " squabbles" 
there may be, they never affect him. Journey where he will, he may calculate on 
a welcome. There is no country in the world where the traveller is so safe from 
annoyance ; we repeat, to that fact every tourist who has written earnestly 
deposes ; there is no exception to the rule. 

We have travelled much in every part of Ireland, visited every one of its 
thirty- two counties, havins: posted, indeed — usually on the common jaunting car — 
more than six thousand miles in the course of our various tours, by night as well as 
day, along its by-paths as well as its highways, over mountains and through miles 
of bog, in very lonely places, sometimes the guest of the humblest cotter. We never 
met the slightest interruption or insult, and never lost the value of a shilling, during 
any one of our journeys. To state this may be needless ; but we write for readers who 
may have drawn back from contemplated visits when they hear of * ' agrarian dis- 
turbances," and of "agitators" who strive — in vain — to excite hatred of "the 
Saxon " in the people. The tourist may be sure that he is safer in the wilds of 
-Connemara, or in the terra incognita of Donegal, than he would be journeying from 
Hyde Park Corner to Richmond. 

We tender on behalf of the Irish "people," earnestly and strongly, our testimony 
— to their enduring fortitude, their self-sacrificing generosity, their indomitable energy, 
their keen sensibilities, their honesty unyielding under any pressure of actual want ; 
and we believe the " raw materials " of the country are even less fruitful of recom- 
pense than the minds and hearts of the Irish people — needing only proper management 
and wise direction to be made of prodigiously productive value. 

We repeat — our hope is to make the English better acquainted with the Irish where 
they are best seen — at home : knowing well that every visitor, be his visit brief 
or prolonged, will return from it with a better appreciation of, and a kindlier feeling 
towards, the countiy and its people ; that, in a word, for every new visitor Ireland 
will obtain a new fmend. 

Nothing can be so valuable to England, and nothing so beneficial to Ireland, as 
frequent intercourse between the two countries, — so essentially and so emphatically one ! 


It is, therefore, a duty, as assuredly it may be a pleasure, to visit that country, 
and it will be a shame to those who prefer a search on the Continent for enjoyment 
they may obtain with infinitely greater certainty so near at hand, while advancing 
the great cause of "Union," between the two countries. The old prejudices that kept 
the people of England and Ireland too long apart have, in a great measure, vanished ; 
frequent intercourse will entirely remove them, and the benefits to be thence derived are 
incalculable. Huge steamboats, so large as materially to diminish all dread of sea- 
sickness, convey the voyager from Holyhead to Kingstown in less than four hours ; 
London being thus brought within little more than ten hours' reach of Dublin ; 
while "Excursion Tickets" render the "trip" easy to persons of even restricted 
means, and the railroad authorities, from the highest to the lowest, consider it a 
primary part of their duty to minister to the wants and wishes of tourists ; the ticket 
being, indeed, a letter of recommendation. 

We are in no degree exaggerating inducements to visit Ireland. "We might quote 
opinions nearly as strong as our own, advanced by a score of English writers, who 
would be accepted as "authorities" on the subject. We quote but one of them — a 
passage from the Times, printed during the past year : — 

" There is nothing in these isles more beautiful and picturesque than the South and West of 
Ireland. They who know the fairest portions of Europe still find in Ireland that which they have 

seen nowhere else, and which has charms all its own The whole coast, west and south, indeed 

all around the island, has beauties that many a travelled Englishman has not the least conception 
of. The time will come when the annual stream of tourists will lead the way, and when wealthy 
Englishmen, one after another, in rapid succession, will seize the fairest spots, and fix here their 

siunmer quarters If a tourist should visit the spots we have indicated, he would return with 

the conviction, that beautiful as continental scenery may be, there are points in Ireland which may 
stand competition with the show districts of any other country." 

We by no ncans desii'e it to be understood that Ireland has reason to be entirely 
satisfied. There is much yet to be done for Ireland by England, not alone on the 
ground of policy, but as just compensation for centuries of misrule. When Ireland 
was oppressed, goaded, and socially enthralled, disaff'ection was natural and inevitable ; 
but of late years the system of government has been altogether changed ; perhaps, too 
much so rather than too little ; prejudices on both sides have materially diminished, 
and Ireland has been gradually becoming more and more "part and parcel" of Eng- 
land — it will eventually be as much so as Wales and Scotland, as much so as Devon 
and York. The next generation, possibly the young of the present generation, will 
marvel at the miserable wisdom that sought to make the- interests of the one distinct 
from those of the other; when the latest relic that keps up the delusion of "separate 
kingdoms" will be a portion of history gone by, and the Viceroy of Ireland will be as 
obsolete as the Lord of the Marches in Wales, and the King's Lieutenant in Scotland, 
and when Her Gracious Majesty the Queen, or some member of her illustrious and 
beloved family, will have a residence in Ireland as well as in Scotland. 

We arc not beholding a vision nor indulging a wild fancy, if we see in the prospect 
— not very distant — advantages to which those obtained from time and enlightened 
policy arc but mere fragments of justice : bigotry loosing its hold — the undue or 
baneful influence of one mind over another mind ceasing — habits of thrift and 
forethought becoming constitutional — industry receiving its full recompense — cultiva- 



tion passing over the bogs and up the mountains — the law recognised as a guardian 
and a protector — the rights and duties of property fully understood and acknowledged 
— the rich trusting the poor, and the poor confiding in the rich — absenteeism no longer 
a weighty evil ; in a word, capital circulating freely and securely, so as to render the 
vast natural resources of Ireland available to the commercial, the agricultural and 
the manufacturing interests of the one United Kingdom of England, Ireland, 
Scotland and Wales. 

We cannot better close these remarks than by quoting some words addressed to us 
long ago by Maria Edgeworth, and which we address to all Tourists in Ireland, and 
all who are interested in the progress, and welfare, of that country — "Happiness 
IN Ikeland is always cheap :" it is so easy to give and to receive it ! 



Date Dae 

4,f*n IT IQQ7 

MAK (7 »^' 






3 9031 01274004 9 


Bapst Library 

Boston College 
Chestnut Hill, Mass. 02167 

HA 990 .KA5 H17 1865 

l-l B 1 1 y S a in I.J el C a r t e r^ v :L 8 • 

A we e k a t K i 1 1 a r ri e y ♦